


Rooftop

by justalilwriter



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Raphael being a potty mouth, Slow Burn, TMNT universe amalgam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-15 13:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5787088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalilwriter/pseuds/justalilwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While attempting to seek a distraction from feelings of restlessness, Raphael very nearly gives himself and a fairly regular gal a heart attack via an unexpected rooftop meeting. The normalcy of both their very different lives thusly begins to change when their unanticipated introduction sparks the beginning of a slowly developing friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Fancy Meeting You Here

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this story over on FF.net and AFF.org a few years ago before abandoning it for a time. Now that I'm picking the story back up, I thought it couldn't hurt to post it over here. 
> 
> I know TMNT/OC stories are not everyone's bag, but I hope for those of you who fancy those kinds of things, especially the slow burn kind, this story ends up being enjoyable. There are seven chapters over on FF.net, but I'm going to do some minor editing before I post them all, so it may be a few days before I have them all up here. I couldn’t quite decide what universe I wanted to set this in given that there are so many differing incarnations to choose from, so I’ve opted for a slight hodge-podge of the films, most notable the ’07 one, and the 2k3 animated series. (What can I say? Greg Abbey’s Raphael just has that voice, ya’ll.) 
> 
> Also, if you need a reference for our heroine's appearance, [here](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/post/137720747759/i-need-to-find-an-artist-i-can-commission-for) is a vague idea via an online doll-maker.

She could still hear the damn thing going off. 

The music was muffled, mildly concealed by the closed zipper of her purse and the various contents stuffed within, yet the familiar vibration and the persistent sound of an all too familiar ringtone persisted until she was sick to death of hearing it.

“Good freaking god! Just go to voicemail already!”

The call had been following her since she’d started checking her mail down on the ground floor of the apartment building, trailing along with every step she took up to the top floor where the comfort of home waited. By the third floor, she’d started to get agitated and by the seventh, she’d begun to silently grumble about how much she hated a lack of elevators and a mother who always called as soon as she knew her daughter was off work.

“Once I get inside I am shutting you the hell off and letting mom think I croaked.”

 _The Imperial March_ sounded a bit clearer once she’d reached the door to her apartment and unzipped her purse, rummaging around to find her keys as quickly as she could. By the time she had the key in the lock and the door pushed open, the music blissfully went silent.

“Yes. Finally.”

Erin Brooks let the door shut behind her with a relieved sigh and not a damn to give where tidiness was concerned as she let her shoes fall off, striding tiredly towards the worn out old couch in her cluttered living room like it had become the center of her entire universe.

“Come to mama, you beautiful, lumpy bastard,” she mumbled, dropping her keys in an ash tray she used for loose change and bits of trash, flopping face down on to the tan upholstery.

After twelve hours of staring at a computer screen and wearing a clunky headset, the simple pleasure of just taking off her shoes, laying on her couch, and being in her own private domain felt nothing short of amazing. Having a sit down job probably wasn’t anything to rightly complain about, but nevertheless Erin still found that talking to customers all day while attempting to make sales quotas tuckered her right out. Two years of becoming accustomed to her position as a telco rep had done nothing to make angry callers easier to deal with and she was all too happy to remember that she had two glorious days off ahead of her. Two days in which she had every intention of avoiding phone use as much as humanly possible.

She heard her cellphone beeping, alerting her that she had a new voicemail to listen to, and the nagging reminder of her mother’s call had her groaning anew. Pushing herself up off the couch, Erin dialed the number to check her messages and turned on the speakerphone, stripping off her blouse and skirt as she made her way to her small bedroom. At some point during her days off she knew she’d probably have to do some tidying up around the apartment or at least clean up all the laundry she had hanging around, snagging a pair of draw string pajama pants and an old t-shirt from an unfolded pile of clean clothes atop her dresser. 

_“Hi Erin. It’s Mom.”_

“Hi, Mom,” Erin replied from the bedroom, grinning at the thought of how her mother would’ve reacted to her daughter’s sarcasm.

_“I figured you must be off work and at home by now, so I thought I should call. It’s been a few days since we’ve talked.”_

Erin shook her head, dressed in her pajamas and tugging her hair back in to a low ponytail, not at all surprised by what she’d heard thus far. Though she’d never lacked for affection from her mother and could happily say that the two of them had always been very close, the woman had a certain clinginess that could often make her feel confined. Mrs. Brooks had a persistent need to know precisely what was going on in her daughter’s life, seeking to know about what might have changed or what her daughter might need. While having a loving if not slightly pestering mother was surely better than an absentee one, Erin still liked her space and privacy. And her mom definitely liked to chatter, even via voicemail.

She listened to her mother’s voice carrying on for what seemed like a good while, making herself a sandwich and aspiring to return the call tomorrow, chewing quietly with her elbows atop the kitchen counter, letting the crumbs fall on to a napkin.

_“Well, I guess you’re probably tired from work and screening my calls right now.”_

“She knows me all too well,” Erin mumbled around a mouthful of turkey and bread.

_“I know you have tomorrow off, so call me back sometime in the afternoon. Try not to party too hard tonight. I love you, honey. Bye.”_

When an automated voice let her know that she’d listened to all of her messages, Erin hit a few buttons to clear out her voicemail and shut off her phone, dusting the crumbs off her fingers before she tossed her napkin in to the trash. She supposed she ought to have been thinking about calling up a friend and going out for some fun, but she felt no real urge to get re-dressed for a night on the town, especially not on a Thursday evening. Jamie, Annette, and Adam all worked Monday through Friday, leaving her few options as far as having friends to go hang out with and she frankly didn’t really want to anyway. She was happily in her pjs and more content to have a quiet night in. _Or a quiet night pseudo-in_ , as she liked to call it. 

As comfortable as her couch was, most nights Erin found that she liked to enjoy the fact that she had a top floor apartment and thus access to the roof. She’d grown up in a smaller city and had adapted quickly enough to having city lights over stars, learning that she was fond of looking out at all the skyscrapers stretched out around her. New York had a different sort of beauty than the modest buildings and quiet neighborhoods where she’d been raised. It was noisy and even a bit lonely at times despite the vast populace, but she relished the sounds of the nightlife beyond her windows and the feel of the city air when she sat up on the roof, glancing down at the world below. It had become something of a weekly ritual for her; climbing out on to the fire escape and heading as high as she could go. Sometimes she brought along a pocket light and a book while on other occasions she just went up to enjoy a view better than the alley her windows faced. The roof was one of her favorite places in the entire city and she was eager to head up, forgetting every hint of weariness the work day had caused.

The air that night was just brisk enough that she felt it necessary to wear something warm, tugging on a black hoodie before she slipped in to her favorite pair of worn out sneakers. With only her bedroom light left on so she could see where she was going and her iPod settled around her neck, Erin opened a window and slipped out on to the fire escape. Her earbuds slipped comfortably in to her ears, music soon blocking out the blaring car horns she could hear out on the street, bobbing her head a bit as a song by _Jet_ began, though she couldn’t remember the name of it. The beat was fast, energetic, and made something as mundane as climbing the access ladder up to the roof feel exciting.

_“Rip it up, rip it up if you’re ever gonna make it!”_

The chorus of the song began when she neared the top of the ladder, making her smile as the title finally came back to her, mouthing along to the words as she pulled herself up to the very last rung. 

_“Damn, I love this song.”_

Open air washed over her face as she reached the top, the cool brush of wind on her cheeks as startling as the figure that came to an abrupt, skidding halt right in front of her. Erin had expected a big, empty space to greet her, not a body rushing towards the edge of the roof, all shadows and green skin. She didn’t know what she seeing, could hardly register an expression as equally shocked as her own staring back in the dim light when a startled scream escaped her lips, swallowed up by the pulse pounding guitar riffs thundering in her ears. For a moment Erin was absolutely terrified, more afraid of her faltering grip than the creature that had appeared in front of her eyes.

“Oh shit!”

Erin didn’t know if she’d said it, thought it, or if it’d come from the green…whatever that’d scared the ever loving hell out of her, a bit more concerned with the realization that she’d lost her hold on the ladder rungs, teetering backwards. 

_“Oh god! I’m gonna die playing peek-a-boo with a mini roof Godzilla!”_

She pin-wheeled her arms in futility, trying to hook one of her legs around the ladder to keep from falling in what became an unnecessary attempt to regain her hold, feeling a large, three-fingered grip closing around her forearm. She felt herself being yanked forward and then up, an arm circling her waist as she was drawn on to the roof. There was a brief press of warm, green skin against her cheek, spying what looked like a shell on the creature’s back as she was lowered safely on to solid ground, eyes wide and lips parting. She hadn’t intended to scream again or at least she thought she hadn’t, unable to do so regardless when her apparent rescuer knelt before her, a large hand covering her mouth to quiet whatever noises she might’ve made. She felt her earbuds being tugged out, the music becoming faint as the city’s nightlife surrounded her once more, forgetting about the wind and the traffic when it…when _he_ spoke.

“Keep it down, lady! You ain’t doin’ me any favors by screamin’ your damn head off!”

He stared at her, expression hard and tense like the tone of his voice, his hand staying put over her mouth for a few seconds longer before it lifted away slowly, as if he was trying to make certain that she wouldn’t scream again. Erin felt so shocked by what had nearly happened and what she was seeing that she stayed silent, watching as the green figure took several steps back. He stopped only once there was a fairly significant distance between them, watching her from a place where the shadows enveloped him, the ends of the red mask he wore across his eyes flapping quietly in the dark.

As she tried to will her heart rate to slow back down, Erin fumbled for the iPod around her neck without taking her eyes off the very large and very clearly angry turtle in front of her, fumbling to shut off the device.  


For several moments, the two of them remained very much like her iPod; completely silent.

\-----------------

Raphael had never been one to be especially shy as far as using foul language was concerned. There were some occasions and instances, most notably when he was within Master Splinter’s hearing range, in which biting his tongue to prevent the more colorful parts of his vocabulary from slipping out seemed necessary. A hair trigger temper and progression in to adulthood had only lessened his need to practice any sort of censorship, so withholding the urge to cuss like a sailor, or a ninja in his case, was exceptionally hard when surprising circumstances had pushed him from zero to pissed in the span of a few seconds.

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”_

She’d seen him. There was absolutely no denying that fact. It would have been impossible for her to have not seen him and at least have registered that he wasn’t human when he’d gotten up close and personal in order to make certain that she’d be quiet. Lord only knew what kind of additional trouble could come his way if she screamed again and drew even more attention to the big, angry turtle standing on the rooftop.

_“Leo’s gonna be **pissed**.”_

His brother being ticked off and vice versa was nothing new. Leaving their teenage years behind had somewhat tempered the heated arguments that had often exploded between the two turtles off and on throughout their lives. The passing of time had presented enough trials and battles to strengthen the bond between Leonardo and Raphael, allowing the two to get along more easily than they probably ever had. In a world full of humans and hidden secrets beneath the city streets, it was better to keep close to those who were so very different from what the general public considered to be normal. Family was something precious, irreplaceable, and while it would never be perfect, it was still something that would always matter. A closer relationship had never and would never mean that fights or bickering was beyond the two, however. Not when both brothers were so vastly different in personality. It tended to happen on a less consistent basis, but the two always seemed to manage to find something to quarrel about, usually as a result of Leonardo’s taciturn nature and the hotheaded impulsiveness which distinguished Raphael from his fearless, stick-in-the-mud, always too damn bloody right about everything leader. Master Splinter had made an analogy about the way their relationship tended to work once. It had involved a deeply rooted tree and the wind; how the breeze could slip easily through the branches or cause them to sway about in a storm. The comparison had seemed initially silly at first, but it had certainly come to make sense over time.

If he really could be likened to the wind then Raphael was quite certain he was close to reaching hurricane level gusts. He’d already been in an odd state of being before his present predicament, listlessly hanging about the lair and seeking some sort of means to pass the time. The usual patrols he and his brothers tended to undertake had lessened in regularity, becoming more of an every-other-night occurrence then nightly as they had once been. NYC never lacked for a purse snatcher or cat burglar to bust, but even still, with the Foot having become more like ghosts than ninjas and the Purple Dragons seeming to tread more cautiously in the past several months, the need to scout around the city every night hadn’t seemed quite as necessary. A lower crime rate was, of course, a good thing, but it tended to make a turtle restless and anxious. Fighting crime and saving lives couldn’t keep his mind off considering the things he was unable to do when there was no real crime to fight and no lives that needed saving. Perhaps he’d simply grown bored or maybe he’d just gotten tired of having too many nights free to consider how he was limited in ways to pass the time while living in the city that never sleeps. It wasn’t as if he could go out to a movie or drop in on April and Casey without hiding in shadows or concealing himself with a bunch of bulky clothing. 

He hadn’t been able to stay in that night, not with his mind treading so dangerously in to that ever annoying ‘what if’ territory, ignoring Leo’s insistence that it was a bad idea to go out alone and storming out of the lair in order to take to the rooftops. Raphael had hoped that a good run would have both cooled and cleared his head, helped him find a bit more peace with his chaotic thoughts. He hadn’t anticipated that those very thoughts would have distracted him so thoroughly that he would be surprised by the sight of a human popping up just before he’d been about to make the jump from one roof to the other. Exposure of what he was and a new risk towards the safety of his family’s very existence had not been something he’d been hoping to find that evening.

Raphael stared the young woman down, silently fighting with the anger he felt as a result of both his own carelessness and her horrific timing, wondering if the fear in her eyes was a result of her near death experience or because she had a ticked off turtle glowering in her direction. If he had to guess, that the later of the two seemed more likely. Even his human friends had reacted in some sort of shocked or freaked out way the first time they’d laid eyes on himself and his brothers, so it wasn’t as if her reaction was anything new. It was still pretty damn irritating, but definitely nothing he hadn’t witnessed before. Rather than dwell on the frustration of being regarded as a freak from the get-go, as per usual, it seemed wise to turn his attention on more pressing matters than his own chaotic feelings. The best course of action seemed to be to question her, to figure out if he could get her to keep what she was witnessing to herself in order to make certain that his mistake wouldn’t cause his family any unwanted trouble. 

“You know, a normal person would use the stairs if they wanted to come up on the roof!” 

Clearly the best course of action was not the one his temper would allow him to take, feeling a fleeting moment of wry amusement that he, the mutant turtle, was commenting on normal behavior to a clearly very normal human woman, dropping the hand he’d used to gesture in the direction of the roof access door. When the wide eyed, cautious unease the woman had been showing shifted to a furrowed brow and a clumsy shuffle to her feet in clear indignation, Raphael knew that one if not both of them were likely to have a headache before the night ended.

“A normal person doesn’t climb a ladder and expect to get the crap scared out of them by a giant talking turtle carrying around a couple of half-sized pitchforks!”

It was her turn to gesture, to the weapons securely tucked under the belt tied about his middle, and Raphael tried to keep his tone even when he corrected her.

“Sai.”

“Come again?”

“ **Sai!** ” he reiterated with a bit more force than was probably necessary, stepping forward and brandishing one of his weapons with an impressive twirl that likely appeared more menacing than he meant it to if the way she’d recoiled was any indication.

Raphael put his weapon away, trying to show her that he had no intention of using it as she may have thought; almost groaning in frustration over how horribly things were going. Her countenance had gone back to that same frightened wariness rather than the brief anger she’d just shown and that fear of him bothered him so much more than her ire. Being looked at like some sort of a monster had grown old a long, long time ago.

“I ain’t gonna hurt’cha. If I planned on it then I wouldn’t have saved you from fallin’, would I?”

“I guess not.”

“Then would you stop lookin’ at me like you’re waitin’ for a fist or somethin’ to go flyin’ at your face?”

“Sorry.”

His words seemed to have done the trick to some extent, her visage seeming no less confounded, but at least a bit less petrified, the tension in her shoulders seeming to loosen marginally as she rubbed the back of her neck in some sort of nervous motion. He waited to see what she might do, what she might say, trying to mirror that even expression he’d watched Leo perfect over the years while feeling certain he probably still looked more pissed off than what would be helpful at that moment. The woman dropped her hand from her nape and let out a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself a bit more, her voice sounding a little less meek the next time she spoke.

“Really. I’m sorry. This is just…it’s a little difficult for me to process all of this. I mean, I was expecting to come up here to just chill out; not to nearly fall to my death and then start having a conversation with a big, life-saving turtle carrying a pretty intimidating pair of sharp-and-pointies.”

“Sai,” he reminded her again somewhat tiredly. “And you’re right. I **did** save your life. Try to focus on that part, okay?”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. And…thank you.”

The appreciation was welcome, especially after the screaming and the obvious horror. It wasn’t every day that he got to hear someone thank him for coming to the rescue given that he kept to the shadows, letting the heroism that he and his brothers practiced be left unknown by the world at large for the sake of their own safety and anonymity. It was his presence and her own clumsy response to it that had nearly sent her off the ladder, a fact that she seemed aware of given her initial angry outburst in response to his words. Her thanks at least abated a little more of his upset over the whole situation. He was no less on guard as she slowly took a step towards him, eyes on his face to gauge his reactions, coming to a halt when the muscles in his arms tensed. She looked too nervous to move any closer without some sort of go ahead, testing his unspoken boundaries rather than pushing them, and she seemed to have just enough inquisitiveness about her to breach the silence once more.

“You’re really real, aren’t you?”

“You ain’t dreamin’ right now if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Though it would probably be better for him if she had been.

Raphael held out his hand, unfurling his fingers so she could see them clearly and count the number of digits that differed from her own; see that he was indeed very real. 

“Same hand I grabbed you with.”

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking down at his hand and then up to his face, searching for some telltale sign of ill will, gingerly moving towards him when she saw none. Until she could place her hand upon his. He wanted to jerk back from the contact at first, having extended his hand for the sake of sight and not touch. He didn’t know her, didn’t feel very thrilled at a stranger who could cause him a world of trouble touching him, but decided against pulling away. If touching his hand would help her come to grips with the reality of what he was, sooth her frayed nerves, then maybe it would allow him a better chance to bargain for her silence. He couldn’t help noticing that her fingers, while more in number and smaller in size than his own, felt a bit cold. Instead of staring down at the fit of her hand on his, Raphael took to watching her face as she noted the difference in the color of her skin against his, her expression caught in a faintly mystified look that didn’t seem as if it would be leaving any time soon.

“I don’t understand,” she said after a time, pulling her hand back and lifting her gaze back to his eye level, looking very inquisitive all of a sudden. “How are you even here?”

“Jumped from the next building over.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she told him, crossing her arms against the cool air despite the hoodie she had on. “I mean…how are you…you? Human-sized turtles that can talk and look like they’ve got the muscle tone to bench a Buick aren’t something one sees every day. Where did you even come from?”

“S’a long story and not one I’m all that great at tellin’.”

Explaining the tale of how he, his brothers, and his sensei had come to be was really more Master Splinter’s forte. Hell, even Mikey had a decent enough knack for telling the story and Raphael felt it best to leave such things to those who were better at it than himself. Not that he had any specific plans to introduce her to a relative who could answer her inquiries, finding it was smarter for now to let the fact that he was not the only talking turtle in Manhattan go unsaid. She fell silent when he rebuffed her questions and he wasn’t wholly sure what was going on in her mind, what she may have been considering or what theories about him she’d started cooking up. 

“ _Aliens probably_ ,” he thought to himself.

She’d already expressed the idea that he could be a figment of her imagination, so extra-terrestrial explanations had to be her second idea. That’s how it usually seemed to go in any case. 

Raphael moved a little closer, closing the slight distance that was left between then in order to regard her more closely under the city lights, needing to be able to read her face more clearly. He noticed that the nearer proximity made her folded arms press together more tightly even though she made no move to step back, trying to hide the discomfort that he could discern without any trouble. While he may not have been much taller than her, he was certainly much bigger and she seemed completely aware of that fact, had to know that his strength was nothing to bat an eye at when he’d pulled her on to the roof without any trouble. It would’ve been easy to use scare tactics to assure her silence, instill enough fear to make her too frightened to dare sharing what she’d seen that night with anyone. It would have been simpler than asking her to keep quiet and having to hope that he could believe her if she agreed.

What was easy, however, wasn’t always right and fear was something to be instilled in the enemies he fought; not in a woman who had only made the unwitting mistake of having really bad timing. Aggression to get results had no place in dealings with a civilian and maybe, to an extent, he simply didn’t want to resort to a method like that when he’d gotten so damn tired of being looked at in the way she was clearly trying not to look at him now.

“I ain’t gonna hurt’cha,” he told her for the second time, with a little less heat and a fraction of the annoyance he’d expressed before.

He meant it and thankfully, if the way her arms slowly fell lax at her sides was any sign to go by, she’d realized that he was speaking the truth. 

“You could hurt me, though. I don’t exactly move around at night ‘cause I want people to see me. If you start tellin’ people about our little run in, it’s gonna cause me a lot of trouble that I don’t need. Ya gotta promise me that you’re gonna keep quiet about what happened tonight.”

“Why would I tell anyone? Saying that I had a chat with a turtle would just make me sound next level nuts.”

“I don’t need you to rationalize **why** you wouldn’t tell anyone! I need you to promise that you won’t! End of story!”

“Okay, okay!” she said, holding up her hands to try and calm him down when his tone of voice became more gruff in his impatience. “I’m not going to tell anyone about you. I promise.”

It was what he had needed to hear, what he had wanted to hear, yet despite how genuine her reassurance had sounded, he didn’t feel particularly soothed or convinced. People could be damn good at faking sincerity when they felt it necessary and for all he knew she could have been doing just that. 

“Do you believe me?”

“It ain’t like I got much of a choice, lady.”

She said what he needed her to say and that was about all he could really do. Loathe as he was to head back in to another feud, he would have to return home and let his brothers know what had happened so they could figure out what to do about it. At the very least, they’d all have to keep an eye on the woman for a short while and make absolutely certain that she didn’t go back on her word. He’d stumbled in to quite a mess and he had to make sure that he kept it from leading to a bigger one. 

Raphael turned away from her, heading towards the edge of the roof where she’d first appeared before him on the ladder, ready to make the jump he’d missed and make his way back to the lair. Saying goodbye felt pointless and was something meant for a pleasant conversation, not a tense exchange of words.

“Erin.”

He stopped near the edge and looked back at her in question, squinting his eyes to showcase his confusion.

“My name. It’s Erin.”

If she wanted him to give his own name in return then Raphael could only set out to disappoint her for now, nodding his head and staying quiet rather than telling her what she could call him. Why give his name when he’d most likely being watching her from the shadows instead of meeting her face to face?

“I spend most nights up here. Fridays and Saturdays especially since I have those days off from work.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’ll be here if you want to check in and make sure I’ve kept things to myself. Or avoid coming this way next time you’re out and about. Just…figured maybe it’d be good to know, is all. A little peace of mind.”

“If you really wanna give me peace of mind…”

He cocked a small grin; the first and only one he’d shown her that night.

“…then take the fuckin’ stairs next time you come up here.”

He left without another word, preparing to face the music back home.


	2. Chapter 2: Checking In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that Leo is going to be the hardest for me to write out of all of the turtles. Here's hoping I can manage to do a decent job capturing all the differing nuances and complexities of his character beyond his outward persona as the ever serious, calm leader.

“You’re positive this is the place?”  


It wasn’t the first time that evening that the question had been asked and it was no less annoying to hear the second time around.  


“Nah, Leo. I’m not. I just picked a buildin’ at random, so we could sit around and stare at nothin’ for an hour.”  


“Raph.”  


The utterance of his name was terse, tipping Raphael off to the fact that he was not the only turtle close to losing his patience.  


“It’s the right place. Just ‘cause there ain’t been any sign of her yet doesn’t mean my memory is off.”  


“Your stealth skills are another story then.”  


“Hey!”  


There was no mistaking the fury Raphael felt over having his capabilities scrutinized, one hand balling in to a tightly clenched fist, faintly shaking as he pressed his knuckles against the front of his brother’s plastron. It took every ounce of willpower he had at his disposal not to throw a punch, to lay in to his sibling over the remark and the annoyingly impassive look settled upon his face; a mask of painstakingly perfected calm. The expression had always infuriated Raphael and yet it also stood as a reminder of why the responsibility of leadership had fallen on to Leonardo’s shoulders. His ability to maintain his cool was entirely effective, if not irritating to one with Raphael’s more unrestrained demeanor. With a scowl and a slight shove with the balled up fist pressed against his brother’s chest, Raphael turned away to look down at the street below.  


“Now ain’t the best time to start back up with me, Fearless.”  


“You’re right. Now isn’t the time,” he agreed after releasing a long suffered sigh, clasping Raphael’s shoulder. “But we will finish this discussion later.”  


“Yeah. Yeah.”  


He gave his shoulder a slight shake until Leo’s grip fell away, settling his elbows against the edge of the roof as he watched the cars and pedestrians wandering about beneath the street lights, seeing his brother move out of the corner of his eyes. There was a slight distance between Leo and himself, a hint of necessary space as they resumed their quiet surveillance with an air of slowly fading tension hovering over them.  


Raph wasn’t wholly certain what more there was that Leo felt needed to be discussed, particularly after the way the two of them had argued at great length when he’d returned to the lair with news of his little mess up. When he had spilled the beans that a human woman had accidentally caught sight of him, Leo had reacted in the exact way that Raph had been expecting; with anger and no lack of reprimanding words. Being called out for his own mistakes, even while well aware of them, had never failed to cause Raphael to go on the defensive, explaining his actions in a manner that sometimes overlooked his own errors or shortcomings. Admitting that he was wrong or that he’d screwed up wasn’t something he was prone to doing often and he damn sure had never liked it, so when Leo had responded to the news of Raphael’s encounter with the ever loathed ‘leader tone’, both brothers had blown up spectacularly. Words such as ‘reckless’ and comments about ‘what he’d been thinking’ had mingled with assurances that Leonardo’s ‘holier than thou’ attitude were not needed had passed back and forth until Master Splinter had finally emerged from his room to stem the tide.  


The wise, peaceful presence of their mentor and father had helped to quell the ferocity of their argument, soothing away the worst of the ire until the two could discuss the matter of the human woman without shouting. It was after Splinter’s intervention, when he had properly cooled down, that Raphael had been able to remember why it was that he had eventually come to rely on Leonardo more than anyone else despite the friction that had always lingered between them. Leo had chalked the argument up as being a result of Raph going out on patrol alone, masking the real reason for their feud from their sensei; something which Raphael had admittedly appreciated a great deal. If there was one thing that the two brothers had always been able to agree on it was that they never wanted to cause their father any unnecessary worry. Until there could be enough cause to believe that the woman would or wouldn’t be trouble, she would not be worth mentioning to Splinter. 

For all the headaches Leonardo could bring him, Raphael had learned over the years to appreciate the reliable nature of his brother. As quickly as he may have been to offer reprimands, Leo had been just as quick to assure Raph that together they would make certain that the human would be no trouble. When push came to shove, as a leader and as a brother, Leo was always there and begrudging as it may have been, Raph certainly respected him for that. He’d no doubt be singing another tune when their next sparring session came along, of course, but for the time being, as the two kept a watchful eye on the woman’s apartment building, Raphael was fine with being silently appreciative of his brother’s presence at his side.  


“The girl who saw you…” Leo began after a while, breaking the silence. “…what do you know about her?”  


“She said her name was Erin.”  


The other turtle waited for a moment, clearly expecting more information than what he’d been given.  


“And?”  


“And what? I only stuck around long enough to make sure she’d agree to keep her mouth shut. Her name is about all I know. That and what days she has off from work.”  


“You don’t know which apartment she lives in?”  


Raphael glanced to the right, smirking a bit at the way his brother had started rubbing a hand over his eyes, usually finding a bit of amusement when his taciturn brother showed telltale signs of frustration if only for the hint that Leo wasn’t as infallible as he tried so damn hard to be.  


“Can’t say that I do. Looks like we’re about to find out, though.”  


He pointed a finger down in the direction of the sidewalk below, at the figure of a brunette carrying a few brown grocery bags in her arms, watching as she disappeared in to the building they had been keeping a close watch over. Moving away from the edge of the roof where it overlooked the street, Raph waved his hand at Leo, urging him to follow as they shifted positions, staring over at the side of Erin’s building that faced towards the alley.  


“She came up on the roof from that ladder. All we gotta do is look to see which apartment lights up and we’ll know where she lives. That make you feel any better, Fearless?”  


“It’s a start.”  


They waited for a few minutes, eyes darting from one set of dark windows to the next, until a light came on behind the closed curtains of a tenth floor apartment.  


“Top floor. Guess I can see why she used the access ladder instead of the damn stairs.”  


Some of the curtains were eventually pushed aside, causing the two turtles to lean back a bit from the edge of the roof, remaining where it was dark and they would be less likely to be noticed by the woman. With their vantage point, Raph and Leo could see well enough to catch glimpses of Erin moving about her apartment, unpacking her groceries and sorting through a small stack of mail. They were very typical and altogether mundane activities; nothing that seemed out of the ordinary or worrisome.  


“Do you believe she’ll keep quiet?”  


“I dunno,” Raphael answered truthfully, plucking a sai from his belt for the sake of idle twirling, needing something to do with one of his hands. “Seemed like she meant it, but there’s no tellin’ how honest she is. Talkin’ to her once doesn’t really give me much room to say I know what kinda person we’re dealin’ with here.”  


“Thus far we’ve seen nothing strange. No real signs of suspicious activity. Let’s just hope she really is a woman of her word.”  


Leo hadn’t said as much, but Raph was positive that his brother was already formulating some sort of contingency plan to prepare for a worst case scenario. Donnie may have been the smartest of his brothers, in a vast number of ways that went beyond his technical expertise, but Leo had a certain knack for coming up with methods to deal with both the expected and unexpected. Possible threats towards his loved ones seemed to get his brain ticking right away and though Raphael couldn’t read minds, he knew that Leo would either sort out an effective game plan or, failing that, get help from the rest of the family in plotting out their next move. If luck was on their side, there would be no need for such countermeasures, and despite how non-threatening Erin appeared, even someone as prone to recklessness as Raphael could consider the risks a wagging tongue could bring.  


Both brothers spent the next little while considering possible outcomes and watching for any allusion to ill intent, seeing nothing to be wary of as Erin began to fold laundry only to give up half way through completing the chore.  


“Heh. Hope she’s better at keepin’ her word than she is at foldin’ her socks.”  


Raphael’s comment garnered a grin from his brother, the expression a bit short-lived.  


“She’s leaving,” he remarked, watching as the lights went off and the woman slipped out through the door to her home, disappearing from sight.  


Leonardo turned to head to the other side of the building, back to a position where he could see the streets more clearly, halting only when Raphael held up a hand to stop him. He followed his younger brother’s line of sight, up to the roof of the opposite building, and together the pair inched further in to the cover of darkness; becoming akin to the very shadows hiding them from sight as a now familiar figure appeared topside. Apparently, Erin hadn’t been lying about her preference for hanging out on the roof of her building, though the nagging idea that she may have headed up specifically with the intention of seeing him again wouldn’t leave Raphael’s mind. If meeting him a second time happened to be in the forefront of her thoughts then what was the precise reason? She’d obviously been frightened by him, fearful of what she didn’t know or fully understand. Was she plotting something or simply trying to show him, in the off chance that he did come back, that she’d been truthful about her habits? Maybe she’d even written him off as a hallucination.  


There were a multitude of questions that Raphael felt needed to be answered; questions which could not be answered simply by watching from a distance.  


“Well…” he began, tucking his sai back in to his belt. “…guess I shouldn’t keep the lady waitin’.”  


“Raph, no.”  


Leonardo’s grip was brushed off almost as soon as it’d fallen on Raphael’s arm, though the severity of his expression could not be cast away quite so easily.  


“We came here just to keep a lookout. Neither of us knows if it’s safe to engage her again.”  


“We’re not gonna know if it’s safe, if our family is safe, by just standin’ here with our thumbs up our asses wonderin’ if she’s worth worryin’ about or not.”  


“I don’t think-”  


“ **I** don’t think we’re gonna figure out a damn thing this way. I dunno about you, but watchin’ her put groceries away isn’t tellin’ me anythin’, Fearless. Way I’m seein’ it, a little interrogation might be our best bet. If anythin’ goes wrong, you’ll be right over here to give me back up, right?”  


“Raph, she might’ve forced herself to forget she saw you. You remember how April reacted when she first met us. If she’s convinced herself that you were a figment of her imagination then you showing up now will ruin whatever chance there is that she’s forgotten.”  


“Yeah, but how do we know she forgot? Are you gonna be able to sleep at night without knowin’ for sure what she does or doesn’t remember or for that matter, what she’s gonna do if she hasn’t forgotten?”  


Raph knew from the moment that a scowl settled across his brother’s face that Leo saw sense in his reasoning, even if he didn’t want to. He seemed to mull it over, just for a moment, before relenting with a nod and a groan of displeasure.  


Damn, but it felt good to one up Leo, even in the most infinitesimal of ways.  


“All right. Fine. We leave at the first sign of trouble. Got it?”  


“Got it. Knew you’d see it my way eventually.”  


Had he not wanted to remain silent for the sake of stealth, Raphael would’ve laughed at the look on Leonardo’s face, grinning to himself as he made his way to the roof across the way.

\------------

Erin had never, in the two years she’d been working for _Big Apple Communications_ , thought there would come a day where she would find herself anxious to return to work.  


_“I miss being at work. The end is supremely freaking nigh.”_  


A normal week usually entailed having ways to pass the time during her days off, typically by meeting up with friends or even co-workers for dinner or a couple of drinks. On the rare occasions that none of the people she knew were available to meet up, Erin found that she could easily enjoy her work-free days at home with a pint of ice cream and a marathon of whatever TV show she found interesting on Netflix. The only instances in which she’d ever experienced any sort of upset over staying in for a few nights tended to involve either being ill or having something weighing heavily on her mind. Nothing made a girl feel more concerned about her own mental well-being like continually agonizing over the idea that she may have hallucinated meeting a giant turtle who sounded like he came from the Lower East Side and had biceps her friend Adam would’ve been envious of.  


At the very least she could say that she was creative in her possible insanity.  


Erin had hoped to see for certain if her green acquaintance was really real when she’d headed up to the roof during her first night off, passing several hours waiting with a box of pizza and a book to keep her company. It had been disheartening as hell when he hadn’t shown up and it had left her feeling worried by the prospect that maybe she’d just dreamed him up somehow. She’d gone to bed that first night trying to sort out her own thoughts, attempting to rationalize how he might have been real or what might have caused her to think of him if he wasn’t. Her best assumption had something to do with the episodes of the old Beauty and the Beast television series she’d watched a month or so ago. Her rooftop rescuer had neither looked catlike nor had he sounded like Ron Perlman, but the connection was the best she’d been able to sum up before she’d finally passed out. She’d focused her Saturday on trying to keep as busy as possible when she had little to do, spending time on the phone with her mother while making absolutely certain, just in case, not to say a word about her encounter. She’d dragged out her admittedly seldom used floor mat in order to get some use out of the yoga DVD she scarcely remembered she even had. She had scrubbed her bathroom to a near spotless clean and taken her dirty clothes to the Laundromat, folding at least a portion of the clean garments before she picked up some much needed groceries. Erin had kept herself perfectly occupied.  


Despite her best efforts, however, her thoughts had gone right back to the turtle and the rooftop. The idea of heading to the top of her building again that night had made her feel wary for a fair few reasons, because she knew it either meant discovering that she’d dreamed up something very bizarre or that she really would meet him again. As much as she hated to admit it, he made her nervous. She supposed it was perfectly normal to feel that way, to be wary of what she didn’t fully understand or what seemed strange to her. How the hell was a person supposed to feel when it came to interacting with a creature that seemed as if they couldn’t logically exist? Especially when said creature seemed to possess one hell of a short fuse regardless of his heroics. He had saved her from becoming a very ugly smear in the alley alongside her apartment building, though granted it was half his fault she’d nearly fallen in the first place.  


“Oh for fuck’s sake.”  


When Erin had come to realize that she’d begun to beat herself up for being unfairly judgmental of the turtle that had helped her, who she wasn’t even positive was really real, she decided that the remaining laundry left to be folded could wait. As she grabbed her keys, leaving her apartment to head up to the roof via the access stairwell, she resolved to put her worries to rest. If the turtle made no appearance that night then she’d write him off as a product of her imagination and stop fretting over the matter.  


_“And if he shows up I’ll try not to make an ass of myself.”  
_

She stuffed her hands in to the front pockets of her jeans after she’d slipped through the door, finding that there seemed to be no one on the roof save herself when she stepped in to the faint glow cast by the city lights all around. A car horn blared on the street and she listened to the sound of tires squealing, furrowing her brow in a tense wait for the outcome, keeping away from the street when the lack of an impact noise let her know that a collision had been avoided. It didn’t seem as chilly that evening as it had the last two, but even still she felt goosebumps raising across her exposed arms, deciding that she ought to have thrown a jacket on over her tank top. She didn’t really care enough to go back for a coat, though. Not when it was possible that a certain green somebody might show up while she was off getting her hoodie. While she gave another slow glance around, trying to see if she might be able to spy some figure hiding near the darkest parts of the roof, she wondered what she might even have to say to him if he did come back or for that matter what he might have to say to her. It was difficult to forget how angry he’d initially been, how guarded he’d seemed. Her knowledge of his existence had quite clearly been a problem and it made her curious to know if there were other people like herself who had crossed paths with the turtle. Perhaps there had been someone once before who had spoken freely of their encounter and given him cause to be wary of humans.  


Erin found that she could focus less thought on the matter when her phone began to vibrate in one of her back pockets, the chorus of _You’re My Best Friend_ letting her know precisely who was calling. She pulled the device free and answered the call without glancing at the display, smiling all the while.  


“What’s up, Jamie?”  


_“Well, Maddie fell asleep and Theo went out to pick up some stuff to make dinner. I have a nice, quiet apartment all to myself for the next twenty minutes or so.”  
_

“You’re bored to tears, aren’t you?”  


_“You have no freaking idea. I was hoping Maddie would still want to stay up so I’d have someone to distract me from my stomach grumbling, but she was fussy and tired. So I figured you could entertain me before I resort to eating my own hand off.”  
_

Erin snorted, scuffing her sneaker along the ground before she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a thumb hooking in to a belt loop.  


“You called me just so I could keep your mind off of hunger? Jesus, James. Way to make me feel used.”  


_“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”  
_

“Pfffffffff. Yeah. Keep dreaming.”  


She heard Jamie shifting through the phone, the faint sound of motion against leather letting her know that her friend was most likely seated on her living room couch.  


_“Have you talked to Annette at all since Friday?”  
_

“No, actually. I’ve been wondering how her date with that blonde chick went.”  


_“From what I heard, it went really, really well. As in, breakfast together the next morning sort of well. I think they’re hanging out at her place tonight too.”  
_

“Nice! That’s all kinds of awesome. Annette hasn’t had a steady girlfriend in a long damn time.”  


_“Longer than it’s been since you’ve had a steady boyfriend.”  
_

“Oh lord.”  


Erin began to roll her eyes even though her friend couldn’t very well see it through the phone, prepping herself for the usual jabs about her continued ‘single lady’ status. She heard what sounded like a faint cry in the background on Jamie’s end of the line, pumping a fist victoriously at the indication that Madison, Jamie’s five month old daughter, had woken up somewhat prematurely from her nap.  


_“Oooohhh. Saved by the baby bell.”  
_

“Yep. Better go and take care of her before you walk in on a crib full of smelly leavings.”  


_“You’re gross and I hate you, Erin.”  
_

“I’m fantastic and you love me.”  


_“Whatever makes you feel better. I’ll call you back a little bit later, ‘kay?”  
_

“All right. Bye, James.”  


_“Bye.”  
_

She lowered the phone from her ear, holding it up before her eyes so she could hit the ‘end call’ button and check the time of the display, wondering if maybe it was a bit too early in the evening for a terrapin visitor to make an appearance. If memory served her correctly then she was fairly certain she’d had her little run in at a slightly later hour given that it’d been right after work.  


“Nice to know you didn’t say anythin’ about a turtle.”  


Apparently it wasn’t too early.  


Erin jolted at the sound of the voice behind her, her phone flying up and out of her hands, squeaking as she fumbled to catch it before it could hit the ground, a sudden possession of butterfingers causing her to bat the cellular from one hand to the other. She sucked in a breath as a hand shot out from behind her quick as a flash, grabbing her phone easily, and she whirled around to face the turtle staring at her with his brows arched. She took a step back, shocked by his seemingly out-of-nowhere arrival and the closeness of him. At least this time she hadn’t been climbing a ladder when he appeared and scared the living daylights out of her.  


“You always this clumsy?” he asked, holding her phone out to her.  


“No. Apparently it’s something I keep reserved just for when you come around.”  


She looked down at the phone and then back up at his face, reaching out with some small degree of caution. While his expression didn’t appear quite so disgruntled, at least not in comparison to their last encounter, he didn’t exactly exude any real hints of friendliness as of yet. She could easily remember his assurances from their last meeting that he would do her no harm, that her mouth would be more dangerous to him than he would be to her, but the fearful anxiety his presence brought wouldn’t go away. How the hell was she supposed to act normal and without hesitance around a big turtle capable of human speech?  


_“Way to fail at that whole ‘not judging by appearances’ thing, Erin.”  
_

The woman took her cellphone back, sliding it in to her back pocket before moving her hands in to the front pair in an effort to keep her arms from crossing, not when he did so himself in what seemed to be a mildly defensive pose she had no urge to mirror. It seemed as if they both had to get used to one another’s presence, so at the very least she found comfort in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one feeling somewhat ill at ease.  


“So…”  


“So?”  


“How long exactly have you been up here eavesdropping on my conversation?”  


“Long enough to make sure that you weren’t blabberin’ about our little run-in the other night.”  


“I told you I wasn’t going to.”  


“There’s a difference in sayin’ you’re gonna do somethin’ and actually doin’ it.”  


He had a point and she supposed, even if his tendency to show up out of nowhere like a damn ninja and his general inability to have any faith in her was annoying as hell, that she could understand where he was coming from. If she’d been a non-human living in a city full of humans, she was fairly certain she’d strive for going unseen and be more willing to expect the worst out of a total stranger than the best. She tried not to let herself get offended by the fact that he’d essentially been spying on her or that he still believed she would try to sell him out in some way. They were going to have to take baby steps and it did seem a little silly to expect him to give her his trust before he’d even given his name.  


“If it makes you feel any better, Big Red, I can let you look through my call history for the past few days, so you can see that I haven’t called a ton of people. Well…there’s a call to my mom, but I made extra certain not to mention anything about you, I promise.”  


The look he gave her was somewhat inscrutable and just when she thought he may have been considering either the offer she’d made or the truth in her statements, he took her completely by surprise.  


“…Big Red?”  


“What? You’re big. You wear a red mask thingie. It seemed to fit better than Big Green anyway and I don’t know what else to call you since you didn’t tell me your name.”  


“And Big Red was the best you could come up with? What was your first guess?”  


“Speedy.”  


The shift across his features from impenetrable seriousness to unamused bafflement threatened to make Erin snicker, so she bit her bottom lip to keep it quiet.  


“Seriously?”  


“Sorry. I’m not really well versed in names that talking turtles go for.”  


“It damn sure ain’t Speedy. Or Swift. Or Shelly. Or anythin’ that stupid.”  


“Does that mean we’re going to stick with Big Red then?”  


He uncrossed his arms with a huff and though the sound hinted at annoyance, Erin was fairly certain she caught the faintest upward tilt of what nearly became a grin. She’d seen such an expression on his face the other night just before he’d left, still remembering what he’d said to her before he’d disappeared. Maybe doing as he had asked and coming up via the stairs rather than the fire escape had earned her a few brownie points.  


“Raphael.”  


“Really?”  


“Did ya hear me stutter?”  


The ghost of a smirk was starting to fade and Erin found herself regretting the loss of it, preferring the indication that he wasn’t all mistrust and irritability. It made him less intimidating and she desperately wanted to stop feeling anxious around him. She knew now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was one hundred percent real and that he could very well be showing up on her rooftop in the future, if only for the sake of watching his own ass where her knowledge of him was concerned. They’d already gotten off on the wrong foot to an extent, so it seemed that it was up to her to try and bridge the uncomfortable gap; give him a reason to feel more at ease with her being aware of him. She smiled softly, shrugging her shoulders a little.  


“No. I heard you loud and clear. Raphael was just the last thing I expected. It’s nice to have a name to go with. To be honest, every time I’d think ‘Big Red’ my brain would start going to chewing gum.”  


“Tryin’ to tell me you been thinkin’ about me all day?”  


Leave it to a guy, human or apparently otherwise, to take something out of the conversation that would stroke his male ego. He did grin fully, however, and it was wide enough to show the whites of his teeth. Somehow the expression suited him perfectly, even if it made Erin feel the compulsion to jab him with her elbow. Naturally, she refrained from doing so and instead moved to the edge of the roof, leaning back against it, weight braced on her elbows.  


“About as much as you’d expect a girl to think about a big, talking turtle who could’ve been a hallucination. Thanks for showing up, by the way. It’s nice to know that I haven’t gone nuts.”  


“Shit. Would’ve made things a helluva easier on me if you did think you were off your rocker,” he muttered, amusement fading back to that familiar frustration as he moved to stand beside her at the roof’s edge, looking out over the city.  


There was no questioning how troubled he appeared, how the prospect that she could’ve remained in the dark if he hadn’t shown up again that night was likely weighing on him now. That insistent urge to keep her distance from him flared up, mutely willing her to move to the side and away from the temperamental creature she couldn’t quite figure out. They were both walking on eggshells around one another, trying to get a feel for who the other was, how they worked, and more importantly if they were safe to be around. As it stood, Erin knew that of the two of them, he was in more of a position to worry than she was and likely had more to lose, so while the continued flip-flopping of his demeanor from guarded to angry to slightly teasing made her feel a little disoriented, it also made her want to try harder to keep from putting her foot in her mouth. Choosing her words carefully wouldn’t prove anything where showing her trustworthiness was concerned, so honesty and empathy seemed to be what the situation called for. That and perhaps a bit of boldness.  


She turned around to face the same way that he was, keeping herself calm when her elbow brushed his, scrunching her nose a bit when her unbound hair flitted across her face; a darker shade of brown in the faint light.  


“Raphael.”  


“What?”  


“I’ve gotta be honest with you. I don’t much care for the thought of being watched or spied on or any of that. But if keeping an eye on me is the only way you can feel reassured that I’m not gonna be a total asshole and try to tell somebody about you then fine. Have at it. Just be aware that I will try very, very hard to kick the ever loving crap out of you if I find out that you peeped on me while I’m changing or something.”  


“You serious?”  


“Yep.”  


“You’re invitin’ me to spy on you?”  


“Sure am.”  


“Anyone ever tell you that you’re weird as hell?”  


“Said the giant talking turtle.”  


He gave her a warning look which she readily countered with a quirked eyebrow, as if daring him to argue about who was the oddest person on the roof that night. When she didn’t look away or cower at the hardness of his stare, she noticed that not only did his expression steadily lose its severity, but that his eyes were brown. Erin hadn’t noticed their color the other night because she’d been so focused on the bizarre circumstance of meeting a human-sized turtle in the first place and thus been more distracted by the green of his skin than the rich color of his eyes. The emotions that she saw expressed in them helped her pay more attention to the way he reacted to what he was experiencing instead of the way he looked. In a way, his appearance even seemed a little less daunting because of that realization.  


“Why?”  


“Why what?”  


“Why are you givin’ me your blessin’ to keep tabs on you?”  


“Because I don’t think you’ll trust that I’m telling the truth unless I do.”  


“Again, why? If you ain’t gonna try and make a profit or somethin’ off of tryin’ to convince someone else I exist then why does me trustin’ you matter so damn much?”  


“Because you’re going to keep worrying that I’m going to cause you trouble if you don’t trust me. You may have been the reason that I nearly fell off the ladder, but you’re also the reason I didn’t. You wouldn’t have to worry about risks of exposure if you’d just let me fall, but you reached out and grabbed me anyway. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially not someone like that.”  


He turned away from her, the movement so sudden and so quick that it startled her. Erin would have given anything to know what he was thinking, to have some confirmation if he believed her even a little. Maybe he still thought she had been offering empty promises and pretty words to lull him in to a false sense of security, even if she had meant every word that she’d just said. It was an unpleasant feeling to know that someone expected the worst out of her, but it wasn’t something that she could help on her own. He’d pulled her on to the roof when he could have and should have let her drop. No amount of not understanding what he was or how he came to be was more important than trying to do right by him when had done right by her at the cost of his own peace of mind.  


Raphael remained quiet for some time, letting her see his shell rather than his face. Erin decided that it was probably a sign that he likely needed to think on things or maybe that he wanted to leave while feeling unable to with so much yet unresolved. It didn’t seem likely that they would make any further progress that night. Perhaps the best thing she could offer him was an out from the conversation.  


“I’m kinda hungry, so I’m gonna go make something to eat. I’ll be back up here again Tuesday night. I work four twelves every week, so I’ve get Tuesdays off too. You already know about Fridays and Saturdays. I guess I’ll just…see you whenever you wanna let me or something.”  


Erin made her way back from the edge and towards the door, pausing to look over her shoulder when her fingers met the handle. The turtle was nowhere to be found, having vanished without so much as a goodbye or even a sound to tip her off to his disappearance.  


“Good night, Raphael.”

\------------

When Raph reached the other rooftop Leo was still there waiting for him, the concern on his brother’s face making it all too clear that he’d hidden somewhere close by and had heard every word that had been exchanged with Erin.  


“Do you believe she’ll keep quiet?” Leo asked for the second time that night.  


“Maybe. I dunno.”  


“Do you want to believe her?”  


Raphael gave him an honest answer.  


“Yeah. I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3: Coming Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Michelangelo, you are always such a delight.

The wait was going to drive him insane.

The pictures and text before his eyes seemed blurred when he simply couldn’t get either his gaze or even the full extent of his attention focused on the comic he’d been trying to read for the past hour or so. Neither the exploits of his favorite superheroes nor watching television had done much to hold his interest, not that there was much entertainment to be found in idle channel surfing anyway. There were a number of other things he could have done in order to pass the time, from playing a video game to whipping out his old skateboard, but for once not a single one of his preferred hobbies held any real appeal. When he actually began to consider the notion of reorganizing his comic collection, Michelangelo closed the thin pages of his present failed distraction and set it down on his bedside table with a weary groan. He rolled off of his bed, rotating his shoulder a bit after having spent the better part of several minutes laying on it, and left his room without bothering to turn off the light, having a feeling he might be returning to his personal space after he’d investigated things in the main room yet again.

“Aw man.”

The lair seemed altogether normal and even rather peaceful. It was mostly quiet with the television off, devoid of any significant sounds when there was no one visibly present on the couch or in the kitchen. He could hear Donatello in the little alcove he’d long ago taken up as his workshop, tinkering with some gadget or device that needed to be repaired most likely. The hint that his brother was keeping his hands busy was a welcome thing to listen to and yet in the almost silence the clink of a tool scraping against the work bench as it was picked up seemed nearly deafening when there were no other noises to mingle with it. At a late afternoon hour there were usually other things happening around the turtles’ home to serve as a reminder that there were multiple bodies residing in their secret abode beneath the city. He couldn’t hear his sensei watching one of the melodramatic ‘stories’ he’d grown so oddly fond of. He couldn’t detect the muffled thud of Raphael pummeling his newest sandbag. Not even the faintest whisper of Leonardo moving seamlessly through the katas he always strove to become better at or the light grind of him sharpening his blades to a deadly perfection resounded across the stone walls. The lair just seemed too empty without all the familiar white noise he’d gotten accustomed to hearing and the silence was made all the more frustrating when he knew very well why the stillness was there in the first place.

Mikey ran a hand over his face and upwards, across the top of his smooth head as he ambled his way in the direction of Donnie’s lab, mouth settled in to a frown of pure frustration, the look almost akin to a pout as he grabbed an empty stool and settled down on to it. 

“They’ve been in there forever, Donnie! It’s driving me nuts!”

His brother didn’t look up from the workbench, face settled in to a near grimace of concentration as he stared down at the broken Shell-Cell he was endeavoring to fix, somehow managing to give the device the attention it required even while listening to his brother begin to vent his present aggravation. How the hell Donnie managed such patience was beyond Mikey’s comprehension at that moment.

“They’ll be out sooner or later.”

“It’s been ‘later’ for an hour! I’m bored out of my shell and not knowing what they’re talking about in there is just…UGH!”

He heard a slight chuckle from his brother and it did nothing to quell the mind-numbingly insistent curiosity plaguing Michelangelo’s thoughts, letting his feet tap impatiently against the rungs of the stool he currently occupied before he leaned back where he sat, gaze locking on the closed set of doors that had been taunting him for what felt like ages now. Master Splinter more often than not tended to keep his chamber open at least a crack; an unspoken invitation for his sons to seek council from him whenever they might need it. The occasions in which he locked himself away completely, questing for true privacy, were rare enough that seeing their sensei’s room being entirely closed off was hard to miss. The pale flicker of light and the scents of melted candle wax mixed with incense were lacking with those doors closed, but the thing that bothered Michelangelo most was the knowledge that _something_ was going on in that room. 

Something that involved two of his brothers.

The very same two brothers who had apparently had a fairly heated argument a few nights ago.

_Perhaps a bit of peek wouldn’t hurt, so long as he was careful._

Mikey stood up and had scarcely even begun to step away from the stool when Donnie’s voice stopped him.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Mikey.”

“Good thing I’m a turtle then,” he responded, grinning in the same impishly cheerful way he always had.

“You know Master Splinter will figure it out if you try to eavesdrop and he won’t like it. Just give it a little while longer. We’ll find out what the three of them are talking about soon. Now, pass me that screw driver, would you, please? Ah! The Phillips, not the flat-head.”

Michelangelo passed the requested tool to his brother and sat back down on his stool, sighing.

“I just hate being in the dark, bro. I mean, Leo and Raph had that fight the other night and we still don’t know what it was about. Then they went topside without us yesterday and now they’re locked up with Sensei talking about…whatever it is they’re talking about.”

He didn’t want to outright say he was worried, but he was. Fights between Leonardo and Raphael were as common as foul smells in the sewers, but it had still been quite a while since the two of them had argued with any notable intensity. Whatever had set one or both off was still a subject that neither Michelangelo nor Donatello had been informed of as of yet and to see his brothers acting a bit strangely, almost tense in a way, was worrisome. Especially when they’d vanished for a night and then converged in to their father’s room for an extended period of time. Mikey hadn’t heard any raised voices coming from Master Splinter’s chamber, but it was a little rare for their sensei to yell unless it was for a very good reason. The almost eerie calm only added to his desire for answers and he just wished he had even a vague idea what the cause of the hidden discussion was. As much as he longed for an excuse to tease his siblings for getting in to some sort of trouble, especially Raphael, knowing that they were all right or that there wasn’t something more pressing bothering them mattered so much more. Leonardo and the rest may not have always taken him seriously, but there was no denying the empathetic nature Michelangelo possessed. When something was amiss amongst loved ones he always took notice even if his concern was shown more in silly comments or gestures to distract others from their troubles instead of fumbled attempts at playing therapist. 

“What do you think it is anyway?”

“I honestly can’t say that I know. I’d rather not waste much time agonizing over what might be going on when Leo will probably clue us in once he thinks it’s necessary. If it was something really dire we’d have heard about it by now.”

“You aren’t even a little curious, though?”

“Of course I am. I’m just better at hiding it than you are.”

Mikey stilled the continued tapping of his foot, realizing that it only made for a perfect sign of his impatience, feeling the stirrings of a quip on his tongue die when the door to Splinter’s room began to slide open with an audible groan of aged metal. Forgetting his desire to retaliate against Donatello’s comment, Michelangelo shot off of his stool quick enough to nearly make it teeter to one side. Donnie reached out to steady it, setting aside his work to follow his more swiftly moving brother to the center of the main room where Leo and a slightly more disgruntled Raph awaited them.

“So what’s the word, big bro? Ten flips? No going topside for a week? What’d Raph even do?”

Raphael shouldered past Michelangelo with a near growl, a quick jump and a vault off of a nearby wall leading him up to the lair’s second level, where he inevitably disappeared from view. The successive pounding of fists hitting a punching bag soon filtered throughout the turtles’ home and the all too familiar indication of his brother’s ire made Michelangelo cringe, rubbing his arm where Raphael had shoved against it a moment before. 

“What did happen, Leo? Raph being in a bad mood isn’t a new development, but he has been shorter than usual the past few days,” Donnie asked, voice laced with the concern he knew was felt by his other siblings.

“The other night when he went out, Raph had a run in with a human. It was by accident, but she saw him and they exchanged a few words, so it’s safe to say she’s well aware of him.”

“That…could be a big problem.”

“Yeah. I mean, random lady gets an eyeful of a mutant turtle…that’s kind of a big deal. Woah! Wait a sec!” Mikey’s brows shot upwards as he remembered one of the little details that Leo had offered thus far. “It happened a few nights ago and you guys just now told Master Splinter?! Man, I’m surprised he didn’t start yelling. And hey! Why didn’t you guys tell me and Donnie?”

While it was true that they were not without human friends, the turtles had never made it a point to expose themselves to other people unless it couldn’t be avoided. Living in secret was not always easy, particularly not for someone with Michelangelo’s energy and overall zest for life, but staying hidden was the best way to assure that they could live at least somewhat comfortably. Trust was something that couldn’t be given away as easily as business flyers on a street corner and with every new individual who came in to their lives there always stood a risk that something could go wrong. Fighting to protect the city’s population didn’t always guarantee that every person they saved was without a properly functional moral compass. People like April and Casey were blessings in their lives and had gained the turtles’ trust over many situations and years. The two were akin to family after so much time and while the prospect of another person they could rely on was welcome, it was something that had to become a certainty before any of the brothers or their sensei could feel at ease. The fact that such a big deal had been kept secret, even if only for a few days, made Michelangelo feel a little left out and even a little ticked off.

“Raph and I didn’t want to let any of you know, especially not Master Splinter, until we had a better idea of who we were dealing with.”

“And?”

“She seems…normal. Perfectly normal. From what she said to Raph, at least what I overheard, she sounds like she doesn’t want to cause him, and thus us, any trouble. I honestly can’t say that I’m positive if she’ll stay true to her word. At least not without speaking to her myself.”

“Is that the plan? Or did you need me to…”

Donatello trailed off, the way he held up his hands and gestured with his fingers, as if typing on a keyboard, offering an unspoken invitation to seek information on the woman in question if it happened to be deemed necessary. Leonardo shook his head to display a negative, gaze flicking from Donnie to the stairs leading to the second level, and his expression rather gave the idea that he was considering checking on Raphael, particularly when the sound of the sandbag taking a beating had only gotten more aggressive.

“I’m going to speak with her tonight. So far Raph is the only one she knows about and he’s not sure if he believes her yet even though he wants to. Master Splinter wants me to get a feel for her as well and depending on what I figure out, it’s possible we’ll be bringing her down here soon so Sensei can do the same.”

It made sense to let Leo sort things out and then leave the final decision up to their father. Master Splinter had always possessed some sort of sixth sense for understanding others and being able to see what type of person they were. If there was anyone who could tell if the woman in question was truly not a threat then it would be him, but arranging a meeting between the two couldn’t happen automatically. Having a go-ahead from Leonardo, who had learned to develop some of their sensei’s skills of perception, was a must before a stranger could be brought in to the lair. 

“Do you want one of us to go with you tonight just in case?”

“Yes. Until we know her better none of us should be truly alone with her. Donnie, I’d like you to come along and keep a look out while I speak with her. In the meantime…”

Leo started off towards the stairs, no doubt to make his way to Raph’s room, and he didn’t stop until Mikey had moved past him quickly enough to rustle the ends of his brother’s mask. He turned once he’d reached the top, grinning the megawatt smile that was as common an occurrence as the tea their sensei drank every morning.

“If I’m staying behind tonight then I might as well keep Rage Machine Raphie company. ‘Sides, Leo, I’m pretty sure you’d just piss him off more right now.”

Michelangelo knew his chances of not irritating Raphael further were only marginally better than Leonardo’s or even Donatello’s for that matter, but he was more than willing to brave his hotheaded brother’s temper. As often as he might grumble over all the headlocks and smacks to the back of the head that Raph had delivered over the years in response to the teasing comments Mikey was so often prone to making, he’d long ago gotten used to it all. It was part of their routine to pick at each other, make playful jabs, and give each other a hard time. As troubled as his sibling was, it was probable that he either needed space or some light joshing to get his mind off of things rather than the well-meaning or analytical sense the others could offer. Leo seemed to relent to the idea, nodding his head as he headed back down the stairs, walking off with Donnie to discuss the plans for that evening as Mikey meandered in the direction of all the noise with his arms folded behind his head. Making an effort to be casual could most likely set Raphael off even more, but when his brother’s temper was raging almost anything could make it worse.

When he stepped in to the open doorway of Raphael’s room, Mikey couldn’t say he was surprised to see the usual clutter of weights and empty cans on the floor and he was hardly shocked by the ferocity in which Raph’s fists were hitting the punching bag, sending it swinging with the impact of every blow thrown.

“Man, what did it do? Insult our mom? Tell you that red is a crappy color? Which it is, by the way. Orange is way better.”

“Fuck off, Mikey,” came the expected response, spoken in the gruff tone Michelangelo had been anticipating.

“Just sayin’, bro. You’re knocking it pretty hard, so I’m thinking this one won’t last any longer than the last one.”

“That supposed to stop me?”

Raphael began to pound the bag even harder, as if trying to prove a point to his brother; that he didn’t care if he pummeled the damn thing until it ripped open. Like the punching bag, Raph seemed damn near ready to come apart at the seams, lost within the single sighted fury that could often take hold of him. Usually, going off in to one of his rages tended to leave his brother feeling regret for whatever harsh words or actions the more severe of his temperamental episodes caused and Michelangelo didn’t want to see Raph suffering any more remorse than he already seemed to be. Perhaps Master Splinter, with his wisdom and predilection for using poetic metaphors that somehow always made sense, was the best person to fully pull Raph out of his black mood, but somebody had to step in and calm the worst of his anger. Leonardo had his sense and Donatello his patience, but Michelangelo knew when his own personal brand of relaxed comfort was needed the most.

“No. Better the punching bag than me. You know I bruise easy.”

“And you scream like a girl.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m delicate! Comes with the territory when you’re this good looking.”

He heard a chuckle as Raph gave the _Everlast_ bag one final punch, striking it for all he was worth, and then catching it to keep it from swinging too close to the nearby wall. Raphael panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and appearing even a little surprised by how winded he’d gotten, as if finally realizing how much energy he’d spent on his anger. He let the bag go, wiping his hand across the back of his brow even though he’d hardly broken much of a sweat, settling down across his weight bench. Taking the unspoken welcome, even if it wasn’t really there, Mikey made his way around the back, looking down at Raph with a smile that showed no sign that he’d been even remotely fazed by the violent display he’d just watched. He helped lift the weight bar from the rack, easing the full heaviness into Raphael’s waiting hands, watching the bar come up and down, the motions enunciated by the occasional grunt from his sibling.

“So, what did Sensei say? You not allowed to go above sewer level for a while? That why Leo and Donnie are going to meet up with the mystery girl?”

“Dammit, Mikey, ya just hadda ask, didn’t you?”

“Better while you’re lifting weights and you can’t get away.”

Raph groaned, perhaps out of both frustration and physical strain, brow furrowed as he remained silent for a few moments, holding off on answering until he seemed to have decided that he may as well give in to the inevitable questioning. Being annoyingly persist, Michelangelo had learned, really paid off sometimes.

“I ain’t restricted or anythin’ like that. Master Splinter wasn’t happy, but I guess he figured I didn’t fuck up on purpose or hell, maybe it was because Leo vouched for me. Said he didn’t think from what he’d overheard that the girl was bad news.”

“But you’re kinda ticked off that he’s still sending Leo to double check before he meets her to make sure himself?”

“I’m ticked off, because we’ve gotta do this shit in the first place. Wouldn’t have to worry about some broad bein’ a problem if I’d had my head together.”

Michelangelo took the bar from his brother when Raph seemed ready to quit, the heaviness passed slowly from one set of hands to the next until it was safely settled on the rack once again. There was no longer any questioning what it was that had set Raphael off now and no further guessing needed to discern just why he’d been so furious. All of the turtles took family very seriously and there was nothing more important to any of them than protecting one another regardless of all the dysfunctions that their little unit possessed. He may still have been prone to storming off in to the night to blow off steam and butting heads with his brothers, particular Leonardo, but after the Winters incident a few years back Raph had begun to express a fair deal more accountability for his actions; at least when it was possible that they could cause harm to his loved ones. Leo’s brief capture had changed him a little, so it was no wonder he seemed to be beating himself up so thoroughly over slipping up and being seen by a stranger. 

“Don’t worry about it, bro. We all screw up. Even Leo does sometimes. But we always get things figured out, right? If this chick you met is gonna be any trouble then we’ll all handle it together. If not then that’s just one more new person to add to our inner circle. Oh! Hang on! Is she hot? Like on a scale of one to April, where would you put her?”

“Why don’t you just wait and find out when she gets here? If she gets here anyway.”

“Aw man! Just give me a little bit of a mental picture, Raph! I won’t get to meet her for a whole freaking day! The wait is gonna drive me nuts!”

“All right, Mikey. I’ll give ya this. She’s got hair.”

“Dude, that is such a cheap shot. Come oooon!”

Raph let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by his brother’s insistent curiosity, and when Michelangelo felt himself being pulled in to a familiar headlock, he knew he’d given Raphael the sort of support he’d needed.

 

\------------

 

“You are evil. I loathe and despise you. It would bring me great joy to see you destroyed.”

The look in Erin’s hazel eyes was nothing sort of icy, her brows tightly knit and her lips pressed in to a hard line that masked their usual fullness. Her expression showcased her disdain to the fullest extent; an altogether tangible loathing.

“If you hadn’t cost so much damn money you’d be in the trash right now.”

She dropped the high heel she’d been holding in her grasp, hearing it clatter against the wooden floor where it fell to rest beside its twin before she allowed gravity to drag her backwards across the welcoming cushion of her bed and the down comforter resting atop it. While she hadn’t actually checked to be certain, she was fairly sure that she had a blister on her heel or that, at the very least, the skin had been rubbed a little raw after spending all day wearing the most uncomfortable pair of shoes in her closet.

“I am never letting Annette talk me in to buying a pair of shoes ever again.”

Sundays had to be her second most hated day of the work week. While Mondays topped her list due to how non-stop busy they tended to be, Sundays were agonizing simply due to the fact that they lasted for what felt like forever. A twelve hour shift on a day with a consistently low call volume usually caused time to pass very slowly and more often than not the few calls that did come in were typically escalations. With so few people in the office, big issues on the weekends tended to be harder to resolve, particularly where any sorts of service outages were concerned, and while Erin was glad that she had ample time to relax between calls, she absolutely hated how long it took for her shift to end. If there was any way she could picture purgatory being, it would most likely be a seemingly unending shift in an overly air conditioned call center with call after call from annoyed customers.

“Uhhhhh,” the woman groaned tiredly, rolling over on to her stomach for a moment only to push herself off of the bed.

A hot bath and dinner sounded lovely before bed, but first and foremost she wanted to change in to some comfortable clothing, bending over to strip off the stockings she’d had on beneath her dress. As luck would have it a quick assessment showed that she didn’t have a blister on her foot as she’d thought, rubbing her fingers across the back of her heal a few times before she tugged off her small cardigan and began rooting through her dresser for some nightclothes to wear. She settled on pair of boxers and a baggy t-shirt she’d gotten from work, shaking her head a bit after loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d kept it in all day. A quick glance in her mirror showed that the strands looked a little extra wavy due to having been pulled back for the past several hours and as she leaned in closer to see how much her eyeliner may have smudged over the course of her evening she noticed the unmistakable sound of something tapping on her window.

“What the hell?”

Erin didn’t think she’d imagined it, expression a bit confounded as she turned away from the mirror to stare at the window, unable to see outside with her curtains drawn shut. For a moment she opted to wait, trying to see if she’d hear the sound again, and when she didn’t hear anything after several seconds, she moved forward to investigate, drawing her curtains back. The window seemed to want to stick for a moment when she tried opening it, causing her to grunt a bit with the effort of pushing it up, greeted by the partial silence of the alley as she set her hands against the sill and leaned outside to take a gander around.

“Hello.”

A voice so close by was not what she’d expected and the large, shadowed shape standing just a few steps away startled her half to death. Erin gasped and yanked her head back in surprise, hearing the hard bang of the back of her skull smacking against the window frame as vividly as she’d felt it, scrunching her eyes shut at the pain that bloomed through her cranium. She lowered her neck further, making sure to maneuver beneath the obstacle when she slipped back in to her bedroom, hissing as she gingerly touched the smarting spot where she’d hurt herself. A careful grazing of her fingertips parting through the strands of her hair told her that she’d more than likely end up developing a lump from the blow.

“Ow! Fucking son of a-UGGHH! God, that freaking hurts!”

She hadn’t realized just how many steps back she’d taken from the sill until she’d cracked her eyes open at the sound of movement slipping through her window, staring down at the floor to see green feet beside her own on the carpet. A hand, one with two large fingers and a thumb, settled cautiously on her shoulder in what she figured was meant to be comforting, smiling through the pain at the indication that maybe her rooftop friend had decided she wasn’t all that bad. Or maybe he just felt guilty for nearly killing her once and then making her bash her damn skull in on another occasion. Either way, having him show up, at her home no less this time, was a nice, if not perplexing, surprise.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, Ra-”

Erin lifted her line of sight and felt her voice trailing off at what she saw. 

Or rather whom. 

“Ra…Random turtle who I’ve never seen before,” she finished lamely, biting her lower lip.

She knew it wasn’t Raphael standing before her. Even in the darker area above her apartment she’d been able to tell that the turtle she knew possessed a skin tone in a deeper hue of green than the turtle standing before her, staring at her through the slits of his blue mask with what looked like apology in his brown eyes. He looked strong, built sternly, but he didn’t seem as thick with muscle as Raphael had appeared, possessing a number of tiny differences which distinguished him from the terrapin she was more familiar with. Unable to help the reaction, Erin moved away from him, clenching her hands in to fists out of tension, and she didn’t even register the alarm she had to be expressing on her face until he held up his hands, attempting to look as non-threatening as a giant turtle with swords on his back could.

_“Oh god, he’s got swords! Holy crap!”_

Her visitor noticed rather quickly when her eyes turned towards the visible hilts of the blades strapped to the back of his shell, shaking his head as he lowered his hands to his sides in an indication that he wouldn’t reach for the armaments he carried.

“You don’t have to be scared. I promise I would never turn my blades on an innocent person. You have my word.”

“That’s…uhm…good to know. Thanks. I guess.”

How she was supposed to trust the words of a total stranger was something she didn’t know, but she supposed in retrospect she didn’t necessarily have any reason not to believe him. After all, she had quite recently found herself trying to convince a completely different turtle that he could trust her not to do him any harm. Perhaps not giving the benefit of the doubt to the second giant talking turtle she’d ever met would have been slightly hypocritical and his words had sounded fairly sincere. It wasn’t as if she’d really expected to meet another being like Raphael, though, let alone with a minor head injury as an added and altogether uncomfortable bonus. Try as she might to relax, Erin couldn’t will the wariness she felt to fade from her appearance, managing at best to unclench her fists. 

“So if you aren’t here to use those intimidating suckers on your shell then is there a reason you decided to show up out of the blue and make me hurt myself? Or were you trying to compete with Raphael in this new ‘give Erin a heart attack’ thing that seems to be popular all of a sudden?”

“No. Nothing of the sort. I’m sorry for scaring you. Is your head all right?”

“Yeah. Hurts, but I’ll live. You do know Raphael, though, right? I mean, I don’t want to assume just because you’re both talking turtles, but…”

He smiled lightly and the lack of falseness in the expression coupled with the amazing aura of calm he seemed to possess gave Erin cause to smile a bit herself, a little surprised by how different this new turtle seemed in comparison to her not-quite-friend from the other night. She’d hardly seen Raphael smile, the only thing close he’d allowed himself to display being a smirk or grin, usually fairly short-lived to boot.

“I’m Leonardo. Raphael is my brother.”

“He didn’t mention you either time that we’ve spoken and I guess I can understand why not. He didn’t really seem too fond of me both times that we talked.”

“It’s nothing against you personally, ma’am.”

“Erin,” she corrected, having never been particularly fond of being addressed as either a ‘ma’am’ or a ‘miss’.

“Erin. Sorry. I know Raph told you that he, or rather we, never go out of our way to expose ourselves to strangers. Keeping you in the dark about the rest of us was his way of trying to keep the family safe in case you turned out to be dangerous.”

“The rest of us? There are more than just you two?”

Just how many big turtles were there living in New York City? The prospect that there were others, that she’d only just brushed the surface of the city’s hidden secrets, made Erin feel briefly like she couldn’t even keep standing, uncertain of how she’d managed to stay upright with the new tidbit of information. There were things about Raphael alone she didn’t know or understand as of yet, let alone about however many members of his family there happened to be, and she wasn’t wholly certain what to feel. The young woman wavered between shock and amazement, staring at Leonardo with wide eyes and an undeniable hope for answers where Raphael quite likely would have offered none. Not when he didn’t seem to trust her.

“Why are you telling me this? If Raphael didn’t want me to know about anyone other than him then why are you here? Doesn’t that kinda defeat the purpose of him not telling me anything?”

“In a sense, yes. My meeting you is pretty risky in and of itself.”

Erin nodded her head and waited for him to elaborate further when he paused, looking a bit uncomfortable and leaving her all the more anxious for whatever explanations he saw fit to give.

“Is it all right if we sit for a moment while we talk? It feels a bit…awkward discussing this in your bedroom.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine. The living room is this way.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘awkward’, but decided to just figure that it wasn’t very often that Leonardo found himself hanging around in a woman’s bedroom. Bedrooms were usually private places after all. Erin hoped that she hadn’t left any of her panties or something equally embarrassing laying out in plain sight for him to see, blushing a bit in unspoken mortification at the thought as she led him out in to the small living room. 

“Sit wherever. Did you want something to drink?”

“Water will be fine. Thank you.”

Erin grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the fridge and a can of off-brand soda for herself, tossing him the cool beverage which he unsurprisingly caught without any trouble, pulling the tab to open her drink as she settled down on the arm chair near the couch. She hadn’t realized that she’d instinctively taken the seat furthest from Leonardo, who had settled on the couch, until he commented on it.

“You don’t have to worry. I meant what I said about not drawing my weapons on you and that extends to the rest of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Raphael had reassured her of the very same thing, on two occasions no less during their first meeting, and it struck her in that moment that these turtles she’d quite literally stumbled in to had probably grown accustomed to people being afraid of them from the get go. She’d been having trouble letting herself relax fully in the two instances where she’d been near Raphael, despite having told herself that she wouldn’t let her wariness get the better of her, and having his brother reaffirm that he was no threat put her back at ease. Different didn’t mean dangerous and she couldn’t help feeling all the more sure of that fact now that she’d encountered two turtles who, though prone to scaring the hell out of her, didn’t want to hurt her even despite the threat she apparently presented. Erin smiled and took a swig of her soda before setting it down on a coaster atop the low coffee table, daring to get up from the chair and join Leonardo on the couch.

“Your brother said so too. And I told him the same thing right back, though I guess you guys have more reason not to believe me then I have not to believe you.”

“Then you understand why I came here to see you? At least partly anyway.”

“Because Raphael doesn’t really trust me to keep the promise I made?”

“Yes. He wants to believe you, but it’s hard to be sure of a person you hardly know. Like I said before, I wouldn’t take the way he acted around you personally. It’s not so much that he doesn’t like you as he’s just bothered that he met you in the first place.”

“That’s good to know. I think.”

Erin wasn’t really sure how she felt about that particular tidbit of information. She couldn’t really say she’d ever heard of someone having regretted meeting her in the first place, it was a little hard not to take it personally regardless of Leonardo’s reassurances.

“I wanted to make certain for myself that you really do seem trustworthy and see if there is a reason for Raph to want to believe you even if he won’t let himself yet.”

“And? Have you reached a verdict yet?”

“Well, you scored some points giving me an unopened bottle of water. Having the thought to give me a drink that you clearly haven’t tampered with in order to make me feel more comfortable was considerate of you.”

Erin felt herself move a bit with a short, silent chuckle and a brief head shake, wondering if he was always so overly analytical about every little action or gesture someone else made. She hated to correct him, but she didn’t want him to go on seeing something that hadn’t been present in the first place.

“Uhm. You’re kinda looking in to things a little more than I did. I just gave you bottled because it’s colder than what you’d get out of the tap.”

Leonardo turned his head and looked at her, his stare lingering on her face at length for several quiet moments. It was just long enough to make Erin want to squirm under the scrutiny, finding that his stare was no less intense than Raphael’s, but rather more probing than angry. The look made Erin feel as if he was reading every little detail of her face for signs of falsehood, unable to force her expression in to something impassive when she felt so uncomfortable with being watched so intently. What was he looking for and for that matter what was he seeing? She found herself experiencing even more bafflement when he actually smiled after a time, setting the bottled water he’d never even opened on to one of the table coasters before he stood. 

“You could’ve let me just think that you had put thought in to your actions. Admitting that you hadn’t was the sort of honesty I was hoping for.”

Erin admittedly hadn’t expected him to say something like that, tilting her head a bit as she stared up at him in a continued state of bewilderment.

“Uhm…’kay then…Did I just pass some sort of truth test?”

“Basically, yes.”

“And did you just come up with it on the fly or something?”

“Essentially.”

Well, wasn’t he a clever one. Erin decided to focus less on how the hell one comes up with a water bottle truth assessment on the fly and instead fixated on the more important details.

“So does that mean you believe I’m not gonna start shouting from the rooftops about giant turtles?”

“A little more than I did previously. But there’s only one way to know for certain.”

Erin wasn’t sure if she was glad to hear that he had a bit more faith in her or if she was frustrated to learn that she still apparently had something left to prove, sighing out her weariness while leaning her cheek against her upraised hand. 

“From what Raph said you’ll be working tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. Until 10. I’m supposed to go to the gym with a friend right after work, though, so I probably won’t be home until around 11 or 11:30-ish. Why?”

“We’ll be back tomorrow night. I’ll try to make sure no one surprises you when they show up.”

“I appreciate the heads up, but what exactly is happening when you come by tomorrow night?”

Leonardo didn’t answer her, instead moving away from the couch and back in to the nearby bedroom. Erin scrambled off of her seat, feeling more than a little exasperated that he hadn’t answered her questions as she moved to follow him.

“Hey!”

When she reached her bedroom doorway she discovered that her room was empty, with only the open window and the floating of her curtains against the slight breeze to remind her that she’d recently invited a surprise guest in to her home. The brunette crossed her arms, leaning her shoulder against the door frame as she stared at the window, wondering what the next evening would have in store for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4: Working Things Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite parts of working on this story is writing about the turtles interacting. Especially when Michelangelo is involved.

“You know what I want to do right now?”

“Swim in a vat of _Icy-Hot_?”

“Aside from that.”

“Eat everything in sight?”

“God, yes. What the hell is it about working out that makes you so hungry?”

“I’m gonna guess the excessive use of energy. Or maybe it’s the whole feeling like you’re gonna drop dead thing making you want to eat to survive.”

“Both make sense to me.”

Jamie and Erin turned their eyes towards one another, exchanging an agreeing look before they groaned in unison, happy to rest their heads against the back of the seat. Hitting the gym for a good workout was something meant to make a person feel fit or healthy and both women felt like neither of those two things. Possibly given that their workout routine was sporadic at best. They would have likely felt better about making the effort to hit the gym if they were prone to actually following through on doing so more than a few times a month, so it was truthfully no real surprise that everything seemed to hurt at that moment. Erin knew that the tender feeling in her thighs, stomach, and arms would probably only grow worse come the next day, thankful that her shift for Monday was over and she had all of her Tuesday off to relax. At least as much as her inevitable soreness would let her.

“We really need to make this more of a regular thing.”

“Yeah,” Jamie agreed, blowing an errant curl from her brow with a puff of air from her lips. “We kinda suck at it.”

“And we say this exact same thing every time too.”

“Yes, we do.”

Her best friend made a noise that sounded like an odd mix of a pained groan and a distressed whine, tilting sideways so she could rest her head against Erin’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward to reach up to pat Jamie’s cheek with the way she was positioned, but Erin did her best regardless, closing her eyes as she felt the taxi shift lanes. Were it not for the minor aches she felt in her muscles it may have been possible for her to fall asleep in the backseat, even though she knew it would’ve been a stupid thing to do when she technically still had plans that night. What those plans actually entailed, other than two very large and very green individuals, was what Erin wished she knew. Truth be told, she was nervous about what sort of tests or trails might be before her. Leonardo had suggested that, while he felt more certain of her honesty, there was only one way to be positive that she was truly a trustworthy person. What would happen if she failed to provide the closure that Raphael and his brother were looking for? She didn’t think either of them had any intention of doing her any harm, but it was still a little nerve wracking to feel so in the dark about what would be coming her way that night.

“Hey. You all right?”

Erin opened her eyes, realizing that she hadn’t noticed Jamie’s head moving away from her shoulder at all, seeing the concern in the blue eyes that were watching her. A small part of her, one that told Jamie damn near everything, wanted to confess her fears, but she knew that she wasn’t at liberty to do so. She’d made a promise not to tell anyone about the turtles and as often as she confided in her closest friend whenever something was weighing on her mind, this was simply one instance in which she had to go against what had begun to feel instinctive over years of friendship. Jamie was someone Erin could trust with anything, but that didn’t mean the same could be said for Raphael and so she simply forced a tiny smile for Jamie’s benefit.

“Yeah. Just silently kicking myself for how bad I am at this whole gym thing.”

“Well, we’re just gonna have to try to start nagging each other on a regular basis until we get better at being consistent. Lord only knows I’m tired of Theo making jokes about my baby weight.”

“Theo needs to learn how to shut his damn mouth. You’re hot as is, James.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Next time I see him I will.”

Erin watched Jamie grin, wondering if the other woman knew how sincere the statement had been. If Jamie’s boyfriend had been serious in any fashion with his jokes then he damn sure needed to be taken down a peg. Jamie was and had always been a curvy woman and she was gorgeous. Theo was lucky to be with her and Erin would be damned if she’d let the guy continue upsetting her closest gal pal, even if he didn’t do so intentionally. Especially since she’d been the one to introduce the two of them in the first place some time ago. Theo was a good guy, loving and funny, but sometimes he had possessed a severe lack of tact that got on the nerves of those close to him, particularly the mother of his child. Occasionally the guy just needed a stern talking to or perhaps a light slug to the arm when he was being especially obnoxious and Erin would be all too glad to deliver both if the need arose.

The cab pulled to a slow stop alongside the curb, the driver alerting the two women that they’d arrived at their first destination. Erin dragged a few bills out of her purse, handing her half of the cab fare to the driver before bidding Jamie good bye with a hug and a promise to call her tomorrow. She withheld a pitiful moan as she slowly eased out of the vehicle, facial expression one of tired distress as her sneaker-clad feet slowly led her upstairs to her apartment; legs protesting the entire way up. She wanted a shower so badly, craving the feel of hot water cascading all over her to wash away the scent of sweat and some of the discomfort, making a beeline towards her bathroom to turn on the facet as soon as she was home, letting the water run for a short while. It usually took a minute for the temperature to heat up to the level she wanted, allowing her time to head in to her bedroom to grab her change of clothes. Her scalp felt a bit itchy from the sweat she’d shed, particularly around her nape and temples, and she generally felt grungy, pausing in the doorway at the sound of a rapping on her window. 

_“Oh man, already?”_

By now Erin had learned not to assume she’d just been imagining things, setting her clothes on the edge of the bed as she walked to the window and started to tug it up, letting out a cuss as it gave her as much trouble as yesterday. A large green hand gripped the bottom of the frame, helping her push it upwards with more ease, and she stepped back a bit, finding a smile coming to her lips almost instantly at the sight of Raphael crouched there on the fire escape. Somehow, even though Leonardo had seemed less outwardly standoffish, she couldn’t help feeling more comfortable with Raphael since she’d spoken with him more. His oftentimes scowling countenance was more familiar and somehow welcome in an odd way, possibly because she knew that there was more to him than just the surface crankiness he’d shown. She’d gotten to see little fragments of more, bits of humor and sarcasm, as well as that hint of thoughtfulness he’d shown in being so concerned for his family. Despite the fact that she had no earthly clue what sort of tests she might have ahead of her, she found that she was actually sort of glad to see him. It felt like a welcome sign that her prior fears had abated.

“Didn’t think you were ever gonna get home,” he grumbled, slipping inside the apartment and giving her a quick once over, most likely due to the clothes she had on. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to be the workin’ out type.”

“I’m kinda not. At least not more than a few times every other week. Thanks for not scaring the crap out of me this time, by the way. It’s a nice change of pace.”

“I figure after almost fallin’ off a roof and havin’ my bro make you nearly bash your head in, any more surprises might actually kill ya eventually.”

She really had become more prone to injury or shock over the course of the past several days, hadn’t she? The thought made Erin want to shake her head, but she opted not to, moving to the bed to scoop up her clothes again.

“I was about to take a quick shower. Wash the sweat smell off and all that. Do you mind waiting a minute or so before we leave?”

She stood by the bed, watching as Raphael meandered around her room, looking at the pictures she’d hung up on the walls and the little knick-knacks she had placed here and there, expression neutral as he assessed his surroundings. For as much as he didn’t trust her, he certainly seemed comfortable enough in her bedroom, lifting up a stress ball she’d left on a table to toss it up and catch it a few times. He didn’t seem particularly happy or friendly, not that she’d have expected him to be, but he appeared more at ease hanging around her room than his brother had been. It was a tiny difference that told her a great deal, wondering if Raphael was truly more prone to indifference where any sort of modesty being in a woman’s room was concerned. Or maybe he was expressing a more casual demeanor, because he’d begun to shed his own fears of what trouble she could cause. She couldn’t claim to be entirely sure and thought better of asking about it for now.

“If you really can make it quick then it’s fine. Though where we’re goin’ I don’t think you should be worryin’ about bad smells too much.”

Erin wasn’t sure what that meant or how apprehensive she ought to be, staring at him awkwardly before she turned towards the doorway.

“Once you’re dressed, meet us down in the alley on your side of the buildin’.”

“Us? Leonardo came with you?”

“Not Leo.”

How many brothers did he have exactly? Erin couldn’t recall if Leonardo had mentioned a specific number or if there was only Raphael and himself. Erin was completely in the dark about who this other person might be, but if she had a completely different turtle she was about to meet in the next few minutes she could say that she was at least glad she felt better equipped to handle it without any of her prior freak outs. She promised Raphael she wouldn’t be long and headed in to her bathroom, thick with steam and invitingly warm. Erin washed her hair and body thoroughly, until she felt appropriately clean and no longer itchy from sweat, toweling her hair as well as she could. As long as the strands were she doubted they’d be fully dry any time soon and didn’t think that time needed to be wasted messing with the blow dryer, pulling the damp locks up with a band near her nape once she’d gotten dressed. No comments had been made about having to garb herself in any particular way, so she went with comfortable and casual; jeans and a tank top with her sneakers, shoving her keys and cellphone in to one of the pockets of her hoodie once she’d headed out the door. The trek downstairs was less painful than it had been going up and with her brain going a mile a minute wondering over the possibilities of what was coming, the aches seemed easier to ignore. 

Erin tried to make certain she looked composed as she left her building and moved along the sidewalk, hoping the pensive expression she carried wouldn’t draw any attention, though it seemed doubtful. If there was anything she’d learned while walking along the streets of NYC, it was that a person could easily become lost in the crowds or overlooked, even when they were sparser in the later hours of the evening. She didn’t notice anyone glancing her way as she neared the alley Raphael had specified, glancing behind her once she’d stepped off the sidewalk and in to the shadows, moving further back and away from the noise of the streets. Her green acquaintance was nowhere to be seen initially, causing Erin to glance around as she moved slowly along, spotting only bits of litter and sealed trash bins for a few moments.

“Raphael?”

“Yeah?”

The voice came from right behind her and she sucked in a breath, holding it as she whirled around quickly, glowering at Raphael with a clear lack of amusement.

“Would you please stop doing that? Christ, you’re like a freaking ninja!”

“Actually, we are.”

Erin nearly jumped out of her skin at the second voice, speaking right behind her, and Raphael caught her by the arms when the motion nearly caused her to bump in to him, her glare intensifying when he grinned at her skittishness. She turned again when Raphael’s hands released her, calming since the fright had been temporary, and coming face to face with another turtle. The unfamiliar sound of his voice as well as the purple color he wore across his eyes and the staff strapped to his back told her that he was definitely a new turtle, possibly another brother. He seemed to be a differing hue of green compared to Leonardo and Raphael, making Erin wonder if that was just one another way she’d be able to tell them all apart by base appearances. There were subtle variances that she’d noticed in the shapes of their eyes and facial structure, of course, but at a first glance she’d imagine they’d all be a little hard to differentiate without the individualized color preferences. The smile the new turtle offered was a little sheepish and certainly apologetic, matching his next few words.

“Sorry about that. It’s a bit of a habit for us to be sneaky.”

“Yeah. Right. The whole…ninja…thing. You guys are gonna have to explain that one to me at some point.”

She wanted this meeting to at least go a little better than the last two, so Erin held out her hand and though he hesitated for a brief moment, the unfamiliar terrapin reached out to shake it with a firm grip.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here, buuuut…Michelangelo?”

“Donatello actually. Michelangelo is our other brother.”

The fact that there was yet another sibling she had yet to meet had Erin glancing at Raphael in astonishment. The more relatives she came to learn about, the more understanding she felt regarding his lack of trust in her. When a person had so many people that meant a great deal who to them, who they wanted to keep safe it seemed perfectly reasonable to be standoffish towards anyone who could bring them to harm in some way.

“Damn. You’ve got a lot of brothers.”

“Yeah. All of ‘em annoyin’ as shit.”

“We’ve got to give you back all the aggravation you give us, Raph.”

Raphael gave Donatello’s shoulder a light shove before he moved past him and further in to the alley, the smile lingering on the purple-clad turtle’s face showing that the physical contact had been simply antagonizing, brotherly camaraderie. Erin had no siblings of her own, but she’d been around enough brothers and sisters throughout her life to see the way they could act and the interaction between Raphael and Donatello seemed very normal thus far. Just like any other family, but with giant turtles who were apparently also ninjas. Erin took after Donatello and followed Raphael, feeling her stomach twist up in knots as they both watched him lift and set aside a manhole cover leading down in to the sewers. That couldn’t really be where they were going, could it?

“Erin?” 

Donatello paused, waiting to see if he had used the right name, which she assumed had been given to him by his other brothers, before he finished saying what he had in mind.

“If you’re carrying anything in your pockets, like keys or a cell phone, could you let me see them for a moment?”

“Sure,” she agreed, unable to help the awkwardly questioning tone of her voice as she fished out the items in question from the pocket they resided in.

Donatello began looking her keys over first, examining each individual one and the few decorative key chains she had attached before handing them back over. His large thumb began ghosting over the keypad of her phone, eyes locked on the screen with a calculating gaze that seemed almost intense in a way. He turned the device over, giving it a thorough examination that left Erin fairly baffled, wondering what exactly he was doing until he handed her possessions back to her.

“Thank you. I just needed to check for any bugs. It’s a precautionary measure, so…no offense.”

“It’s okay.”

Oddly enough it was. Despite her reservations about the situation and whatever it might entail, she felt that she had to be a little open minded about the way they all handled things. Their precautions were present for a reason and if she wanted to abolish the mistrust they felt, make them really believe in the honesty she’d offered thus far, then refusing to let herself be offended by their suspicious actions was her best bet. At any rate, Donatello did seem glad that she appeared understanding of his assessment of her belongings.

“All clear then, bro?”

“Yeah. All clear. Let’s get going.”

Donatello moved towards the open manhole and jumped right down in to the darkness without any sign of worry or notice for the ladder he could’ve used, leaving Erin to consider how he’d slipped through so easily with the bo staff he had strapped to his shell. Raphael mentioned to her with a wave of his hand, reaching for a strip of black fabric he’d had tied to his belt the entire time, which she even hadn’t noticed until he unraveled it and began to hold it up to her eye level.

“You’re going to _blindfold_ me?”

“Can’t have you rememberin’ the way we’re takin’ you.”

“I’m guessing making a pinkie swear not to pay attention to the way we’re going isn’t gonna get me out of wearing that, is it?”

Raphael sighed, as if her disquiet at the loss of visibility he expected her to endure was trying his patience.

“Stop worryin’. Donnie and I’ll make sure to steer you the right way. I ain’t-”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said, cutting him off, and reminding them both what they’d mutually promised to one another. “All right. On with the blindfold.”

Erin closed her eyes and waited, feeling the cloth pressing across them as the blindfold was secured in to place, the tightness of the knot loosened a little when she winced in discomfort. She stood quietly, unable to see anything and waiting for instructions or a hand to guide her along, turning her head quickly in the general direction of a finger snapping sound near her face; probably Raphael’s means of making sure she really couldn’t see. His hands wrapped around her forearms, large enough in size that her limbs felt tiny in their hold, and she followed where he led her slowly, trying to pay attention to what she could hear, feel and smell with her vision blocked out. 

“I’m gonna drop you down, so try not to scream or anythin’. Donnie’s down at the bottom and he’ll catch you.”

“Yay.”

The uttered word lacked any enthusiasm whatsoever.

“Arms against your chest. Legs straight. Got it?”

“Mm-hm.”

“All right then.”

Raphael’s hands moved from her arms to her waist right away and she tried not to let herself feel overly jarred by the suddenness of him lifting her off the ground, tucking her arms tightly against her chest as she’d been instructed. It was pointless to scrunch her eyes shut in anticipation when she couldn’t even see, but she did so anyway, feeling the rush of air as she was let go, dropping down in to the waiting arms of Donatello. He caught her with ease, without so much of a grunt or any sound to indicate that her weight had strained him, unable to help leaning her head against his shoulder in relief that the drop had passed so quickly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Good catch.”

“Thanks,” he told her, sounding faintly pleased by her appraisal as he moved along a few steps, setting her down on her feet as she heard the scrap of the manhole cover closing and Raphael’s body dropping almost noiselessly beside them.

“We’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of us, but Raph and I will keep you on track.”

Donatello set her down, leaving Erin to stand still and a bit lost until Raphael began to push her forward, her hands instinctively lifting to search out ahead until she felt the hard, grooved surface of a shell against her fingers.

“Just hold on to me.”

She flattened her palms against the shell and gave a wordless nod, assuming Donatello had seen it given that he started walking at a casual pace, making it easier for her to follow. Thus far he’d been very reassuring; his voice almost gentle in quality, and Erin wondered if the thoughtfulness he’d been showing was very common of his personality. He seemed like he’d be very easy to get along with and perhaps it was his disposition or her having already met two of his kind prior that made her feel really comfortable in his presence. 

“So, I know why the blindfold is necessary, but am I allowed to ask any questions about general stuff?”

“Like what?”

“Well, how long have you guys lived down here? Or in New York? Whichever one is safe to answer.”

“I think they’re both pretty safe questions.”

Donatello lead her along, answering some of the simple inquiries she’d made to help keep her mind off of her present blindness and the unpleasant scent of the closed off air in the sewer. She heard a number of other sounds beyond Donnie’s voice, such as the flow of water and the padding of Raphael following behind, never really joining in on the conversation. Sometimes, she even forgot that he was there with as quiet as he’d become, reminded of his presence when his hand would sometimes reach out to help steer her around something she could trip over. Although he remained wordless during the long trek, he didn’t seem to protest any of the answers Donatello gave her. It was nice to learn Donnie enjoyed tinkering with things and that their other brother, Michelangelo, was an avid comic book collector. She liked finding out that they’d lived in New York since childhood, beneath the streets, and that more often than not they preferred pizza for dinner, though arguments tended to break out over preferred toppings. They were just tiny breadcrumbs that left her wanting to know even more, but she welcomed them nonetheless. Maybe, if things went well with whatever interrogation or test they had prepared for her, she could get to know them all better. 

“Have you ever worked regular customer service?”

“Nah. Just tech support. It was frustrating sometimes, but I’d take helping with pc repair over arguing about phone rates.”

“It’s not the best way to spend a day, yeah. Pays the bills, though.”

Donatello drew to a halt and asked Erin to let go of his shell rather than continuing the conversation about their similar work experiences. She had a number of questions about how exactly a talking turtle could manage to land a tech support position, but she figured it was a talk to continue at another time. With the almost casual rapport Donatello and herself had built over the past several minutes, she had a feeling they’d probably resume where they’d left off at some point if things panned out all right. Fellow phone reps, former and current, had to share customer horror stories, after all. Erin let her hands drop to her sides, hearing Donatello move ahead, head glancing around when she heard what sounded very much like shifting stone. Raphael took her by the elbow, his grip firm yet not harsh, leading her forward several steps as the noise from before signaled a passage closing at their backs. 

“It should be all right to take this off now.”

The light hitting her eyes after so many minutes of seeing blackness made Erin temporarily flinch when the blindfold came off, blinking a few times to let her vision adjust to the new surroundings. She wasn’t sure what precisely she’d envisioned the turtles’ home to be like, particularly after dropping down in to the sewers, but what she saw before her caught her completely by surprise. Despite being beneath the city the lair didn’t feel or even look closed off, the ceilings high while the walls were far apart, allowing for a vast living space. There was mostly brick everywhere, with a number of large wires tethered to the walls in places and the faint hum of power mixing with the bleeping of a few old arcade games and a large TV. There were closed doorways on the upper walkway clinging to the edges of the room and a few old pieces of furniture that looked like they’d been scooped up some time ago. There was a bit of clutter, from weights to books and tools, but it gave the place a comfortable, lived in sort of feeling and mercifully, Erin was glad to find that it smelled nothing like the unpleasant tunnels they’d been walking through. 

“Keep your mouth hangin’ open like that and you’re gonna catch flies.”

Erin’s lips sealed shut, but the amazement and curiosity in her eyes didn’t lessen as she followed Raphael down the set of steps he’d begun to descend, Donatello walking at her side. 

“This is quite a place. How on earth did you put it all together?”

“A lot of work and a bit of personal ingenuity. Most of the power we get is through a generator system I put together and with the security precautions we’ve got set up we manage to keep pretty well hidden. Impressed?”

“Yeah. Very.”

Donatello really hadn’t been just throwing around a false ego when he’d casually stated that he was technically savvy. She had no doubt that he’d had some help from his siblings getting everything set up, but the inventiveness he’d managed in making their home thrive without drawing attention from any sort of public utilities company was something amazing. He didn’t seem to gloat about it either, smiling with a quiet pride at Erin’s continued awe as he gave her shoulder a quick pat, promising he’d speak with her more later as he headed off to a large alcove on the far side of the lair to occupy his attention with something else. Raphael remained near her after they’d reached the bottom of the steps, his arms crossed, and his feet braced apart in a relaxed stance, his eyes following her every movement as she took in the details of the living space around her.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked for the tour yet.”

“Do I get to? I’m kinda figuring you guys didn’t bring me down here just to show me your sweet digs.”

“Heh. Yeah. Wasn’t really the plan. If you impress Master Splinter then you might get a look around. Mikey’s probably itchin’ to show you this place. Or just meet’cha period.”

“Hey! You’re back!”

“And speakin’ of Mikey…”

Raphael’s head was already shaking in some sort of mild exasperation and Erin’s focus could only remain on the reaction for as long as it took for the rush of footsteps heading down the steps towards the two of them to distract her, watching the only turtle she’d had yet to meet eagerly making his way in her direction specifically. As with his other siblings, the green of his skin bore a different tone and while his brothers’ all possessed brown eyes, Michelangelo’s were blue; sharply contrasting the orange mask he wore. There was no sign of tension in his limbs or assessing wariness in his eyes, the wide smile on his face making him seem almost happy to see her, and the look was practically infectious. Erin couldn’t fight the smile that came, particularly when he held out a hand for what seemed to be a greeting fist bump. As unexpected as his enthusiasm was, Erin couldn’t say she didn’t appreciate it, bumping her fist against his with only a mild amount of awkwardness since she hardly knew him.

“Hey there, Dudette! I’m sure my bros told you all about me already, but I’m Michelangelo. You can just call me Mikey, though. S’less of a mouthful.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Erin and…well…that’s pretty much what everyone calls me. Kinda hard to shorten an already short name.”

“I can probably hook you up with a sweet nickname sometime. I’m good at that kinda thing.”

“You mean bein’ annoyin’?” Raphael chimed in and though his words weren’t kind, there was no actual malice to them whatsoever and his grin made it abundantly clear that he was just joshing.

“Nah, bro. I think you meant awesome. You’re getting your ‘A’ words mixed up.”

“Nope. Pretty sure annoyin’ was the exact word I was lookin’ for.”

Michelangelo threw a punch at his brother’s head, but the lack of force behind the blow and the ease with which Raphael caught his fist showed it hadn’t been a serious strike in the least. 

“Erin? Did you just get here?”

The beginnings of a short tussle between siblings was forgotten with Leonardo’s appearance, the apparent leader of the brothers looking down from the second level, hands on the railing as he surveyed what was going on below. He vaulted over the bar without pause, landing just a few steps from the conversing trio, and he offered a nod of greeting to the human woman.

“Yeah. Just a few minutes ago.”

“Great. Raph and Donnie were gone for long enough that I was beginning to wonder if you were even coming.”

He seemed almost relieved that she had and she couldn’t be certain if that relief was due to seeing his brothers return home safely or if her arrival meant that he hadn’t been wrong in his judgment of her character the previous evening. 

“And now that I’m here?”

“Now you’ll meet Master Splinter. He’s been waiting for you, so let me take you to him.”

Leonardo held out an arm, gesturing in the direction that he meant for her to go, and Erin did as he expected, the katana totting turtle moving right along beside her. At least for all of a couple of steps, a groan from Michelangelo causing them both to curiously look in his direction, seeing that he appeared fairly let down.

“Already? She just got here and we haven’t even gotten to talk much yet.”

“If things go well then there’ll be time later for getting to know each other, Mikey. You know Master Splinter doesn’t like to be left waiting for too long.”

“Raphael mentioned you’d probably want to be the one to give me the grand tour. Show me around in a little while?”

The suggestion had Michelangelo’s disappointed face reverting back to its previously smiling state and it made Erin feel almost relieved. Even though she’d hardly exchanged more than a few sentences with him, seeing anything other than a smile or a grin on Mikey’s face seemed wrong somehow. She continued back in the direction Leo had indicated to, hearing Michelangelo telling Raphael something about how she was a seven, whatever that meant, as the creeping return of her prior anxiety began to resurface with every step she took towards a partly opened doorway. She knew little about this Master Splinter she was due to meet, even less than she knew about the turtles, but the way he seemed to be regarded made her feel that it was incredibly important that she gain his approval. The brothers spoke of him with a great deal of respect and though Leonardo seemed to have an air of authority about him, Master Splinter sounded as if he was the true head of the family. If she failed to make him see that she was nothing to fear then she wasn’t sure what would happen.

Leonardo leaned his head in through the partly opened doorway once they reached it, leaving Erin unable to see inside the room, and she shoved her hands in to the pockets of her hoodie to stop the urge to pick at her nails out of apprehension. She heard a voice, deep and gravelly in quality, responding to Leonardo’s announcement that she had arrived and the turtle pulled back from the door, nodding his head through the entrance to urge her within. Erin offered him a weak smile, expelling a heavy breath to help calm her nerves, and she began to move towards the door, the whisper of Leo’s voice briefly halting her.

“Don’t worry. Master Splinter has always been a good judge of character. Just be who you are and everything will be all right.”

She whispered her thanks, appreciative of the reassurances he’d offered, and she stepped in to the room, hearing the door shutting behind her. The décor was decidedly Japanese, with old tatami mats on the floor and pieces of calligraphy on the walls, the entire space illuminated by dozens of candles that had long since begun to leave trails of wax over the edges of the tables they sat upon. What caught her attention much more than the appearance of the chamber was the person residing within it, trying to keep her expression neutral as she came face to face with Master Splinter. She’d expected another turtle, not a very large rat, and while it was a little jarring to be encountering another type of non-human creature, she didn’t feel particularly scared. Rats had never bothered her and the utter calm visible on Splinter’s face seemed to radiate outward from his whole being, giving her a sense that she was perfectly safe with him even if she was still worried about how she might fail to impress him. 

“You needn’t be afraid. Please, come and sit.”

Erin did as he bid her, moving the rest of the way across the room to settle herself on the floor opposite of him, a low table between them. Upon coming closer she realized that he had on what looked to be a maroon robe, the color faded with age even though the material hardly seemed frayed at all, and regardless of all the hair that covered him from head to toe, he still seemed to have a goatee of sorts hanging from his chin.

“My sons tell me that your name is Erin.”

“Yeah. Erin Brooks. And you’re Master Splinter, right?”

“Yes. Would you care for some tea, Miss Brooks?”

A rat offering tea? There was certainly one thing she never thought she’d experience. Regardless of the oddness of the situation, she shook her head in the negative, unable to really think about eating or drinking at the moment. Her gaze remained settled firmly on Splinter as he lifted a heavy teapot and poured the contents of what seemed to be a green tea in to a small, ceramic glass before he took a slow sip.

“So…you said that the guys were your sons? When they called you ‘master’ I figured that maybe you were…a teacher or something like that. I didn’t know you were their dad.”

How a talking rat had talking turtles for sons was one very difficult to figure out equation she hoped he’d elaborate on, body practically rooted to the floor as Master Splinter set his glass aside and stood, using the aid of a wooden staff he’d kept nearby to help himself stand, though somehow she wasn’t wholly positive he was as feeble as the use of it made him appear. 

“I am both, Miss Brooks. Father and teacher. We all have many different roles we play throughout the course of our lives. I will gladly take upon the role of storyteller and tell you all about my family…if you would permit me to ask a few questions about yourself.”

“Sure. Ask away.”

She didn’t bother to correct him, tell him to simply call her ‘Erin’ rather than ‘Miss Brooks’, because he didn’t feel like the sort of person one was supposed to correct. He began to walk around the table slowly and she turned to face him when he came to a stop at her side, setting her hands in her lap as he looked down at her. His expression was calm, unreadable, and though there was nothing harsh about it, Erin felt more heavily scrutinized then she thought she ever had in her life, even more so than when Leonardo had been assessing her the other night. 

“Have you lived in New York a long time?”

“No. Can’t say that I have. I moved here about three years ago actually. I’m from North Carolina originally, but I moved to Connecticut when I was four, so that’s what I’ve always considered home.”

“Do you intend to stay here in the city for a long time?”

“That was the plan. I’ve got a job and an apartment and I can’t see any real reason not to stay. I kinda like the city life.”

“Even though the city can, at times, be unpredictable?”

She knew what he meant by that and at first she wasn’t sure how to respond, staring up at him with some hope that maybe his eyes would give her some inkling as to what answer he needed or wanted her to give. She didn’t want to get this wrong, didn’t want to say something that would make him see any cause to find fault in the honesty of her person, and it was after a moment that Leo’s words came back to remind her what she needed to do. She just had to be herself. That was what Splinter was looking for.

“Life is always unpredictable no matter where you live and I like to think I’m pretty good at adapting to change.

“And how do you plan to adapt to the changes my sons and I have brought in to your life?”

“Well, Mikey…I mean…Michelangelo was going to show me around the lair. He seemed pretty excited about it. Donatello and I had a pretty good talk on the way here about being phone reps, so I was hoping we could swap customer horror stories. I’d like to get to know Leonardo a little better and as for Raphael…”

Splinter nodded at her pause, bidding her to continue.

“He sorta made me almost kill myself and then he saved my life and I don’t think he’s stopped worrying since it happened. I want the two of us to get to know each other better, because I think if he could see that hurting him or any of you is the last thing I want to do then maybe he’d stop being so damn ticked off and let the two of us become friends.”

He actually laughed at that, the sound something very comforting to hear, and when it faded, a smile lingering in its wake, Master Splinter bid her to stand up with a gesture of his fingers. She nearly towered over him in a way with the manner in which his shoulders slightly hunched forward as he leaned on his cane, but even despite her greater height he still seemed to have a much stronger presence than her own. Unexpectedly, he bowed his head to her and Erin felt that she was meant to do the same, her smile hopeful when he patted her arm with a sort of warmth behind the gesture.

“One thing you must learn about Raphael, Miss Brooks, is that he tends to be ‘ticked off’ quite often. But I would not give up hope. When he realizes that doing the right thing by saving you will prove more beneficial than harmful, he will come around.”

“Beneficial?”

“Yes. We remain hidden for reasons I am certain you understand and I believe another trusted friend is something my sons would greatly appreciate having.”

Erin realized that somehow Master Splinter had seen what he’d needed to see, had come to find that she meant more good than harm, and the relief was so immense she almost couldn’t believe it. Rather than revel in that alleviation of stress, Erin focused on what she most wanted to in that instant.

“So, do I get to hear you become a storyteller now?”

Master Splinter gave another soft laugh and nodded his agreement, urging her to sit back down.

There was a long story waiting to be told.

\------------

How damn long did an interrogation have to take?

He hated waiting. He absolutely hated it. Particularly when he was waiting to find out for certain if a mistake he’d made was going to come back to bite him, along with his family, in the ass. While he knew that Master Splinter was definitely the best person to decide if Erin was as trustworthy as she claimed she could be, having to sit around idly while anticipating what was to come had him feeling far too distracted to do anything else. Much like Michelangelo had claimed to have felt while waiting for news about what Leonardo and himself had discussed with their sensei. Everything about the past several minutes, from watching his brothers go about their business as if occupying their thoughts was an easy endeavor to staring at the closed door to their father’s room, had Raphael wanting to just barge in to find out what the verdict on everything was. He wanted to bloody well know if he’d been stupid to even allow himself the briefest desire to believe in what Erin had promised him. He wanted to feel absolved of the guilt he’d been experiencing at potentially having brought harm to his loved ones. As chaotic as his nature tended to be, even Raphael could crave peace of mind and as the minutes ticked on by, he wanted it more and more.

As he attempted to distance his thoughts from what Master Splinter may have been discovering about the woman he instead turned his mind to the conversation she’d had with Donatello. Even though she’d been blindfolded and led to some unknown place beneath the streets, clearly fearful judging by the way she’d occasionally jumped at the sound of skittering rats and the groaning of old pipes, she had built a rapport with Donnie that had seemed easy. As easy as the conversation he’d heard her having on her cellphone a few nights ago. He’d been unable to chime in, to make any remarks as the two chatted amiably, because he simply hadn’t known what to say. He’d been too busy trying to figure her out, attempting to decide if the casual way she carried herself and the way she so easily adapted to Donnie’s presence was just genuinely her or some sort of carefully put together façade. The more he’d watched and listened, the more he felt that he wanted to trust her, more so than he had that second night up on her roof. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to decide what to make of the seemingly ordinary woman.

He welcomed the reprieve from his thoughts that came once the door to Splinter’s chamber came open, his sensei stepping out with Erin following after. Rather than head down from where he stood, elbows draped against the railing that hugged the upper level of the lair, he watched from his vantage point as his brothers moved to greet the pair.

“Well? Is everything…” Leonardo asked first, voice trailing off as he looked from Master Splinter to Erin and then back.

“Everything is fine, my son.”

Splinter turned towards Erin and the two exchanged relaxed smiles, without any sign of tension or worry seeming to exist between them.

“Miss Brooks will be of no threat to our family. I am certain of it. And, if the way her stomach was growling when I told her about the origin of our family is any indication, I’d imagine she would appreciate some of your leftover pizza, Michelangelo.”

Both Leonardo and Donatello seemed relieved while Michelangelo seemed positively excited by the news, leaving Raphael to remain where he stood in a state of lingering uncertainty. As Mikey asked Erin what sort of pizza toppings she liked, insisting that they ought to just order a new one for the evening, Raphael tried to sort out his thoughts. While he too was relieved by Master Splinter’s assessment, feeling as if some sort of weight had been lifted, there was some indescribable frustration lingering within him. He didn’t know if it was out of having been stressed over seemingly nothing, if he personally wasn’t convinced yet, or if he felt foolish for not believing the woman in the first place. At the very least, he could say that he was thankful not to feel as if he’d screwed his family over by bringing Erin in to their lives, hoping that things would remain that way.

“Come on. I’ll heat you up a slice so you’ve got something to chow down on until the new pizza gets here.”

Mikey began to lead Erin towards the kitchen and Donnie seemed ready to follow, Leo hanging back to speak with Master Splinter, no doubt about how he’d come to his conclusions about the woman, when Raphael noticed Erin looking up to notice him in turn. She excused herself from the others, telling Mikey and Donnie she’d be there in a minute, and Raphael looked away when she began to ascend the nearest set of stairs, making her way to where he stood until she was beside him, mirroring the bracing of his arms over the railing. He felt her elbow briefly brushing his, reminded of the way they’d stood on her roof the second time they’d shared a conversation.

“So, Big Red, are you still not really sure I’m gonna be good and keep quiet?”

“Nah. Got no reason to not believe you now. Not after Master Splinter got to talk to you.”

“That’s cool and all, but I want to know how **you** feel about this. Regardless of what your sensei says.”

“You want the truth?”

“Mm-hm.”

“It’s irritatin’ as fuck when you call me Big Red. You didn’t forget my name already, did you?”

Erin snorted, having not expected something like that apparently, but accepting what he had offered regardless without pushing for more. Raphael still felt somewhat conflicted and yet despite that, he was more willing at the very least than he had been before to admit that she no longer appeared to be someone he should worry about. If being a smart-ass didn’t show well enough that he wasn’t quite so pissed or on edge then he didn’t know what would. 

“No, _Raphael_ ,” she said, accentuating his name in a droll way just to pick at him. “Big Red just sorta grew on me.”

It was either the nickname or himself in general that had grown on her if her apparent desire to become all buddy-buddy with him was anything to go by. 

“Well, don’t let it grow on you anymore than it already has. And for the record, if you ain’t plannin’ on usin’ my full name, then just stick with Raph.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good. Now come on,” he said, fingers wrapping around her wrist as he led her away from the railing and to the nearest closed door. “Might as well get that tour started.”

“I thought that was going to be Mikey’s thing.”

He smirked at her with a near devilish enjoyment over the mention of his younger brother.

“I know. It’ll really chaff his ass when he finds out I beat him to the punch.”

He let go of her wrist so he could push the door open, but he felt her closeness regardless of the loss of contact as he began to show her the home she’d been brought to, the lives she had now become a part of. Raphael may not have been able in that moment to call her a friend, but he could at the very least say that she no longer felt like an enemy.

He hoped things stayed that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


	5. Chapter 5: Friday Night Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Raph, you and your temper.

They were cute together.

In fact, Erin and Jamie alike would have even gone as far as to say that the pair presently curled up on the living room couch was cute to the point of nearly being obnoxious. Neither woman could claim to be a stranger to the giddy feelings that came with being part of a newly established couple, both easily able to recall the way it felt when a romance was just starting out. A new significant other tended to bring out a certain level of chipperness in a person, where every new kiss and newly discovered similar interest felt amazing. It was an emotional high that had always felt incredible and while being in a long, committed relationship was wonderful in its own right, nothing could really compare to discovering affection for and with a new partner. The nearly saccharine displays expressed in the continual kisses and endearments being passed back and forth between Annette and her new girlfriend may have caused Erin to exchange a few bemused eye rolls with Jamie, particularly whenever Meg began to coo for the umpteenth time over how good their friend looked with the purple streaks she’d just added to her hair, but neither begrudged Annette for her joy. In a way, it was genuinely refreshing to see the development of a new relationship for their friend, particularly after she’d spent the past six months in frustration while bouncing from one failed date to another. If Annette was happy then the sugary sweet displays of affection being witnessed were certainly bearable. 

For a little while anyway.

“Jesus, Annette, did you lose your house keys in her mouth?”

Jamie’s playful comment was rewarded with a middle finger from both Annette and Meg, the light pecks the couple had been exchanging becoming purposefully loud just to spite the redhead for her teasing. Erin snorted at the three of them, walking away from the fridge she’d been rummaging through to set a new can of soda on the coffee table for one of her guests. Meg pulled away from her new girlfriend to utter her thanks, pulling the tab with a loud hiss before she enjoyed a few swigs on the caffeinated beverage.

“Sorry. All this making out gets a girl feeling thirsty,” she remarked with her eyes specifically focused in Jamie’s direction.

“I figured Annette’s saliva would have taken care of that.”

Annette tossed one of the small throw pillows on the couch at her sarcastic friend and Jamie held up her hands a few seconds too late to block the softness from hitting her in the chest, forcing out a mock sob in response to the blow. As often as Erin and Jamie tended to tease one another, it seemed to happen a great deal more between Jamie and Annette, most likely due to the fact that the two had known one another a bit longer. Meg didn’t seem to be put off by the almost constant ribbing the two kept participating in, seeming to be laid back enough to take it in stride and see it for what it was; fun between old buddies.  


“Don’t be jelly, James,” Annette said with a grin that bordered on being downright smug.

“It’s too late. I’m so jelly. Spread me across some bread. I’m that jelly.”

“Oh my god, you two,” Erin began with a laugh, flopping down in her favorite arm chair with her legs stretched way out in front of her. “Are you going to be doing this all night? Just think of poor Meg having to put up with you lunatics for the next few hours.”

“I know. This is why you should be going out with us tonight, Erin. I need someone sane to talk to while these two are messing with each other.”

Meg gave Erin a look that seemed pleading and it was almost unsettling how effective the woman’s puppy dog eyes could apparently be, making the brunette nearly feel guilty to have to turn the other woman down. On a Friday night Erin would have usually been happy to go out for dinner and a few drinks with her small yet very close group of friends, especially now that Annette having a girlfriend had added a new addition to their tight knit little posse. If Adam had been available to hang out that night then it would have been all the more difficult to resist Meg’s beseeching expression given that it had been a bit rare as of late that their whole group could actually get together to catch up and goof off. Tempting as the offer was, Erin knew that she could only turn it down when she had already made prior plans, already feeling admittedly anxious for the other group of guests she’d be having over that night to show up. 

She hadn’t spoken to any of the turtles since they’d brought her to meet Master Splinter on Monday and as new as her relationship with all of them was, she actually felt quite eager to spend more time with the four brothers. After she’d been given Splinter’s approval, the turtles had seemed glad to accept her as a new fixture in their lives, and for a few hours after her assessment by their sensei she’d gotten to explore their home while learning a little about everyone who lived there. Michelangelo, who she had gladly begun to call Mikey with an already growing affection, had warmed up to her fairly fast and when he’d insisted on joining Raphael in showing her around their ‘lair’, she’d come to find that their near constant habit of ribbing each other reminded her of how Jamie and Annette could act. Raphael’s tendency to seem a little standoffish appeared less prevalent when he was either dragging Mikey in to a headlock or labeling Donatello a nerd when she’d gotten to see the workshop. Donnie, though less exuberant than Mikey when it came to showing her around, was very welcome company to be with and even though he’d confounded her with explanations of how he’d made certain aspects of the lair function, his cleverness and approachable presence made her enjoy talking to him very much. Leonardo hadn’t been present for much of the latter half of her visit, having disappeared for some time in to his father’s room and she had assumed that the two were discussing her. For a while, his absence had made her worry that perhaps he didn’t wholly approve of her, that he would remain as tense in her presence as Raphael still seemed to be at times. Her fears on the matter had only been laid to rest when Leonardo had offered to lead her home and though much of the walk back had been silent, Leo had reaffirmed the faith he’d expressed in her by removing the blindfold halfway through the journey. That sign of growing trust and his comment when they reached the alley beside her apartment building, informing her that she was welcome to visit the lair whenever she liked, reassured her immensely.

It had been Michelangelo’s suggestion that they visit her apartment for a Friday movie night, an idea which his other brothers had agreed to be a good one. It seemed only fair to let all of them become better acquainted with her home since she’d been invited in to theirs’ and though she didn’t have nearly as much hanging out space in her little one bedroom abode as they had in their place under the city streets, she had a feeling that it would be fun to have them over. Going out for drinks with old friends was a great time, but sometimes staying in with new friends could be just as exciting. Particularly when those new friends happened to be large turtles skilled in ninjutsu. Either way, the night Erin had ahead of her was sure to be interesting.

“She’ll spare some time for us when she doesn’t have a hot date planned.”

Erin gave Jamie a look that practically demanded silence, the lack of amusement on her face as clear as day. The comment from her redheaded friend had caused Meg’s pout to morph in to a visibly more curious expression and Erin was already prepared to begin deflecting all the inquiries that would no doubt be coming her way. 

“Hot date? I didn’t know you were ditching us for that. Annette told me that you’re the eternal single gal.”

“Annette likes to exaggerate,” Erin muttered, glaring at the other brunette in the room, who glanced around as if her attention had been drawn by some sudden, unseen distraction. “And so does Jamie. I don’t have a hot date and being sans boyfriend for a few years doesn’t mean I’ve been eternally single.”

“If it’s not a hot date then why won’t you tell me exactly who you’ve got coming over tonight, hmmm?”

“I **did** tell you, James. They’re a few new people from work.”

The one downside to having very close friends who were often very invested in seeing her happy was that the whole group of them could be incredibly nosy when it was really unnecessary. Erin wasn’t a person who lied often, so she was pretty sure her skills at masking the truth probably weren’t the best in the world, and that made keeping things from her friends, particularly Jamie, a very difficult feat. She couldn’t very well state that she had four turtles coming over to keep her company and using the ‘new people from work’ excuse was the best lie she’d been able to come up with. As much as she hated to hide things from the people she was closest to, she couldn’t betray the turtles’ trust when she was still earning it in some ways, and with her human buddies being as inquisitive as can be, she had a feeling she’d have to ask the boys for ideas on cover stories she could use on Jamie and the rest. Apparently, having two very different groups of friends was not going to be easy.

“And they’re all guys?”

“Yes, they’re all guys.”

“And you’re not sweet on at least one of them?”

“No. I’m not.”

Jamie, Annette, and Meg all stared at her and the three looks of utter scrutiny made Erin want to hide in her bedroom just to avoid further pointless questioning.

“I don’t know any of them well enough to have any mushy-gushy feelings. Seriously. It’s just a few friends from work coming over for a completely unromantic movie night.”

Annette and Meg seemed content to leave well enough alone, one nodding in understanding while the other shrugged. It was Jamie who didn’t seem wholly convinced, the look on her face showing that she didn’t feel as if Erin was telling the truth in some way. Erin was certain that she’d have to deal with some sort of interrogation later, though with a bit of time to think on things and discuss the predicament with the guys, she knew she’d be better equipped to deal with the questioning her best friend would unleash in the near future. Thankfully, despite the threat of further inquiries her expression promised, Jamie remained silent on the matter. 

“You’re boring, you know that, Erin?”

“Bite me.”

Annette snapped her teeth together in a quite literal response to the comment, smirking broadly at Erin before she stood, stretching a little after having been seated for a prolonged period of time. Taking her girlfriend’s cue, Meg moved to her feet as well, slipping them back in to her heels as the pair gathered up their respective belongings, including the unfinished can of soda that had been offered a few minutes ago. Getting a table at a New York restaurant on a Friday night typically tended to be an exercise in patience, as well as a hell of a long wait, and it had been decided at the start of the girls’ visit that Annette and Meg would leave early to reserve a table before the rest of their group arrived. 

“Sure you don’t want to give the mystery guys a rain check?” Meg asked at the front door, taking her jacket when Erin handed it to her.

“I’m sure. I promise we’ll all meet up next Friday if everyone is free again.”

“All right. I’m holding you to it.”

Meg’s arms moved around Erin’s back, giving her a quick hug that didn’t lack for warmth and though it was a little awkward to an extent since the other woman was a new fixture in her life, Erin still welcomed it. As the two embraced, she looked over Meg’s shoulder at Annette to see the clear happiness her friend felt in seeing that her new girl got along so well with her old buddies. It obviously meant a lot to her that she and Jamie liked Meg, which was if anything a very strong indication just how much Annette cared for the girl. Erin couldn’t help smiling over such a realization, pulling back from the hug she’d been drawn in to so she could hold the door open for them, bidding the pair to have a good night. When the couple was out of sight, she turned to look at Jamie who had just begun to put her own jacket back on, reaching next for the purple scarf she’d previously had wrapped around her neck.

“I like her. I think they make a good couple.”

“Yeah. Annette found herself a good one this time. I honestly think they’ll be together for a long while.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Once she had her scarf properly secured and her purse in hand, Jamie made her way to the open door, checking her coat pockets to make sure she had all of her belongings. She had to do a bit of running around before dinner, having to head to her mother’s apartment to meet up with Theo, who should have dropped their daughter off by that point in time. It wasn’t always easy to find a babysitter for Madison so that Jamie could drag her boyfriend out for a long overdue date, so the two were always happy to capitalize on every opportunity they could for a night together. Especially with all the bickering they’d been doing as of late. None of those things appeared to be on Jamie’s mind just then, her blue eyes lifting to settle on Erin, expression more mischievous than serious.

“Now we’ve just gotta get you nice and hooked up. You’re going to give me details about this little hang out thing tomorrow, right? If you feel any sort of click with one of these guys…”

“Yes, James. I promise. Should a miracle happen and my prolonged celibacy comes to an end tonight, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Atta girl. Night!”

“Have fun!”

Jamie gave a wave as she stepped out in to the hall, the sight of her lost when Erin closed her door, locking it since she doubted her next set of guests would be more likely to come in through the window. A quick glance around the living room told her that she probably ought to do a bit of tidying up before the turtles arrived, heading to the couch to readjust the haphazardly strewn pillows even though they’d probably just end up all over the place again in a few hours. 

“Oh! Dishes!”

Erin turned right around and headed for her modestly sized kitchen, remembering that there were a fair few pizzas to be ordered and a good number of dishes she’d have to clean if they were all going to have anything to eat off of, scowling at the pile of plates and cups she’d let accumulate over the past few days. 

“Oh yeah. Tonight is definitely gonna be a night for romance,” she muttered to herself, reaching for the sponge and the bottle of dish soap resting on the side of the sink.

She fell in to silence, scrubbing away while she waited for her new friends.

\------------

 

“I thought you said you could pick locks!”

“I can! Just give me a fucking minute!”

“You’ve had five!”

“Stop trying to rush me!”

The two teenagers bickered back and forth, their hushed voices far from being the whispered tones they obviously intended to be using, their figures mostly concealed by the dim light of the back alley. The shaky hands of the youth attempting to jimmy open the locked door before him hinted at his unease and the constant grousing from his companion made the two a less than inconspicuous sight, even in the darkness of the evening. Every so often one or both let their eyes wander back and forth, clearly seeking any indication that someone had caught sight of them, peeking further down the alley and towards the street when the direction they ought to have been looking was up.

“Couple of amateurs.”

“They really don’t make Purple Dragons like they used to.”

“Like what, Mikey? Slightly less incompetent than Tweedledee and Tweedledum down there?”

“Pretty much.”

Raphael could tell by the tone of Mikey and Donnie’s voices that neither found the would-be criminals below to be any sort of threat, their hushed statements as relaxed as their postures. Unlike the teenagers who presently had their attention, the turtles knew how to remain properly concealed under the cover of night and just quiet enough to communicate with one another without being detected. It may have helped that their vantage point was higher as well, but Raph was happy to chalk up the fact that they hadn’t been discovered to years of perfected skill. 

“They must be initiates. I don’t see tattoos on either of them, but the purple bandanas on their arms are a dead giveaway.”

“So…does that mean Donnie’s a Purple Dragon too then?”

Mikey simply grinned at Leo even when his older brother cast him an unamused glance, the orange-clad turtle wincing when Raph thwacked the back of his cranium, his indignant shout of pain silenced by Donnie’s hand covering his mouth. 

“What?” he began, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it was funny.”

“What isn’t funny is how many initiates we’ve seen lately. There have been a lot of teenage recruits attempting break-ins without any official Purple Dragons overseeing things.”

Leonardo was always quick to notice when a local gang had changed the pattern of their goings on and his expression showed that he had been considering the notion for some time, his eyes locked on the pair below with an almost unwavering scrutiny. The others might have told him he was being too serious several years ago, when they’d been younger and a little less aware of how often Leo’s hunches could be right. They’d learned long ago to have a bit more faith in their leader’s deductions. 

“You think they’re plannin’ somethin’?” Raphael asked, moving to stand a little closer to his brother, following Leo’s line of sight.

“I don’t know yet. Either the Dragons have gotten lazy with the way they do initiations or there’s something we’re missing. They haven’t been what they once were for a long time, so it makes sense for them to have gotten sloppy. Still…I can’t help feeling that there’s something else that might be going on.”

“There’s only one way to find out, right?”

Raphael tugged a sai from his belt, grinning in anticipation as he waited for the go ahead he knew was coming. Leo gave a nod, reaching for the swords at his back and following his three brothers down to the ground below, their footfalls making scarcely a sound as they dropped from one lower point to the next until they’d reached the alley. 

“Dammit! Just move! I’m gonna break the damn lock!”

“Are you an idiot?! You’ll set off the alarm!”

“Actually, whether you pick the lock or break it, you’ll likely set the alarm off anyway.”

The pair halted their bickering, turning their heads towards the voice behind them, jaws agape and eyes growing wider by the second at the sight of the turtle who had spoken. Donatello leaned against the support of his bo staff almost casually, regarding the teenagers with a small smile, finding more amusement in their bafflement than anything, especially when one of the two youths visibly mouthed “what the fuck” without so much as blinking. The olive green turtle swept his staff upwards with a simple twirl, knocking the Swiss Army knife clutched in the would be lock-picker’s hand right out of his grasp, catching the tool without so much as even glancing away from the young men. 

“Swiss Army knives aren’t very good for picking locks either. I’d advise against using them in the future. Or trying to break in to places again altogether for that matter.”

As expected, the two couldn’t really take listening to a giant turtle speak for very long without finally losing their cool, both initiates screaming loud enough to make Donnie grimace, watching them start to run further in to the alley. Neither boy made it very far, the fellow with the lock pick only managing about four or five steps forward before a sai flew out of the dark, pinning the shoulder of his long sleeved shirt to the nearby wall, a second embedding on his opposite side to keep him in place. His companion raced along a bit further, clumsy enough in his panic that he nearly tripped over an old trashcan lid, the brief loss of forward momentum useful to Michelangelo, who simply slipped out from behind a dumpster to grasp one of the teenager’s flailing arms. He turned, easily flipping the boy over his back and face first in to an open, empty trash bin without any visible strain. The waste container teetered from side to side and inevitably fell over, the youth within groaning almost pitifully while Mikey dusted off his hands, as if for a job well done.

“Man, this must be what taking candy from a baby feels like.”

“If one of ‘em starts cryin’ then it won’t be too far off,” Raphael said in response, tugging his sai from the wall, gripping the front of the seemingly younger teenager’s shirt in order to shove him towards Leo’s waiting hands.

“Sounds like this dude is.”

Mikey leaned over, swearing he heard muffled whimpering resonating from within the metallic insides of the trash can, shrugging his shoulders as he grabbed the ankles of the boy stuck inside to pull him out. He had apparently misjudged the sound, finding the teenager unconscious and stinking of trash when he was freed from his temporary confines, quite possibly having passed out from either the shock of seeing over-sized turtles or perhaps due to taking a knock on the head. Regardless of what the case might be, he didn’t seem to be hurt and his present state of being meant that the other boy would be their best bet for interrogation. Leo appeared to have already considered that notion, towering over the young man who had given up on trying to run. The boy sank down to his knees once he’d backed against the nearest wall, staring up at the stern looking turtle and the very intimidating swords he happened to be wearing.

“What are you? Are you going to kill me? Please, don’t! I won’t try to break in to another shop again!”

“Calm down. We aren’t going to kill you. We don’t even want to hurt you. All we want are answers.”

Leonardo knelt down, reaching out to take hold of the bandana secured around the teen’s arm, tugging the purple material away to let it dangle before the wide, brown eyes of the clumsy criminal. The boy glanced from the cloth to the turtle clutching it, watching the other three terrapin creatures come to stand behind their leader, further solidifying the reality that he had no chances of getting away. Not without answering whatever inquiries they had to present him with.

“I’m assuming by this that you’re an initiate for the Purple Dragons.”

“Y-yeah. Me and Reg both are. This was supposed to be our way to get in.”

“And what did they want you to do?” Raphael asked, evidently unimpressed by the workings of the street gang the boy was attempting to join. “Break in to some place, steal somethin’, and then you get your shitty lookin’ tattoo?”

“Well…yeah. They said if we wanna be Dragons, we have to prove it. They said the best way to prove we’ve got the guts and the skill to become members was to break in to some place without getting caught by the cops and bring back something that’d be worth a little cash.”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but guts and skill are two things you ain’t really swimmin’ in.”

Mikey seemed to be in complete agreement, nodding his head at Raph’s assessment with a faint snicker, and Leo held his hand up towards both of them, urging the pair to remain silent for the time being. 

“You aren’t the first pair of inexperienced criminals they’ve been trying to recruit over the past few months. Do you have any idea why the Dragons are trying to get so many new members or anything about their plans?”

“No. They didn’t tell us anything and I haven’t really heard about anything big. I just figured that they were looking for fresh blood, ya know? A lot of their people are probably getting older, so they need young guys like me and Reg.”

Most of the present members of the gang had to be in their mid to late twenties at best, so the idea that the boy considered that particular age bracket to be ‘older’ made it all too clear just how young and wet behind the ears the kid really was. That fact, accompanied by the plain realization that he really didn’t know much of anything about what he was getting in to or what the Purple Dragons may have been working on, made Leo release a resigned sigh, moving to stand once again. He glanced at his brothers, his silence and his expression enough to tell them that they were no better off for information than they had been before, which meant that they had no reason to detain the teenager any longer. Leo balled up the bandana he was holding and tossed it upwards, quickly drawing one of his swords from its sheath on his back. The boy seated before him drew his knees up towards his chest, shaking when the blade first came out, and he didn’t lower the hands he’d pressed over his eyes until he realized that he hadn’t been hurt. The purple bandana sat at his feet, sliced in to two pieces, and though the turtle standing over him made no move to attack, the fact that his sword was still out kept the misguided youth in a state of visible fear.

“Take your friend and go home to your parents. The Purple Dragons aren’t worth wasting your life, so give up on joining them. If you don’t, we will make sure you’re turned in to the police next time we run in to you.”

The kid nodded, but made no move to get up, and Raphael, ever lacking in patience, moved forward to hoist the teen up on to his feet before shoving him in the direction of his fallen friend. That seemed to light a fire under the boy’s ass, sending him racing to heft up Reg’s unconscious form as well as he could. The turtles were out of sight by the time he turned to start dragging his companion towards the street, vanishing from his view as if they’d been figments of his imagination the entire time. He didn’t seem keen to dwell on things, leaving the alley and his plans of breaking in to the building behind. The turtles had resumed their place on the rooftop, watching the initiate high tail it out of the scene of what would have been his first crime, stepping away from the ledge once they had nothing else to look down at.

“Well…I guess that wasn’t a total loss. I mean, we still know a whole lot of nothing, but at least we got a couple of kids back on the right track, right?”

It was a futile attempt to make the situation seem a little brighter and not one that seemed to fully work, not even to Mikey, whose tone had sounded a bit half-hearted. He’d aimed the comment at Leo in specific, able to see that his oldest brother in particular was less than pleased by the lack of information they’d managed to stir up, casting a glance at Donatello as if to silently say that he’d tried. Donnie merely shrugged, settling a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out. If there really is anything behind these initiations, we’ll find out what it is somehow. The Purple Dragons have never been quite as well organized as the Foot, so it probably won’t take us much longer to get to the bottom of things. Especially not if I keep checking police reports for anything suspicious.”

That did seem to help, at least a little bit. Leo’s expression made it all too clear that he didn’t feel overly reassured, that he was still a bit on edge due to the unsatisfied hunch he’d been dealing with, but the knowledge that he did have his brothers all backing him up made him feel less tense. Donnie had made a few good points and while having him keep track of the goings on of the local authorities wouldn’t alleviate the uncertainty that had been plaguing him, Leo knew that that extra bit of surveillance would at least help him put his mind at rest enough to allow him to sleep at night. 

“It’s been quiet, so why don’t we call it a night, Leo? Those kids didn’t give us anythin’ to work with and I dunno about you, but if we ain’t gonna be bustin’ any heads then we may as well spend the next couple of hours enjoyin’ ourselves.”

“I’m with Raph. We’ve got pizza, movies, and a new lady friend waiting for us, bro. May as well give the patrol a rest.”

Leonardo could see how eager Michelangelo seemed by the prospect of food and a bit of relaxation even though they’d hardly had a strenuous time of things that night. While his gut instinct was telling him to stay out a little while longer, just to be on the safe side, it had been a quiet evening just as Raphael had suggested. It didn’t seem likely that they’d have any real luck unveiling the possible plots of the local street gang any time soon and his own stomach was beginning to growl at the thought of dinner.

“All right. Erin’s probably waiting on us anyway. Let’s head back to the lair and grab a few movies to bring along.”

“Sweet!”

The hot, cheesy pizza in his near future had Mikey bounding off to the next rooftop over in no time at all, Donnie following suit at a more leisurely pace, and Leo made his way to follow at first until he noticed Raph heading towards a different ledge, facing a direction other than the one his brothers had started off in. 

“Raph?”

“I’m gonna head on ahead, make sure she knows we didn’t forget about tonight. I’ll tell ‘er that you guys are on your way.”

“It’s not like we’re going to take that long swinging by the lair, Raph.”

He heard his brother releasing an exasperated breath, knowing fully well that the questioning was testing the fairly minimal amount of patience Raphael possessed, but Leo wasn’t inclined to just let his sibling head off on his own quite so easily.

“Look, Leo, I’m goin’ on ahead. If you’re worried that history is gonna repeat itself and I’m gonna end up runnin’ in to some other chick hangin’ out on a roof then stop. I ain’t about to let that happen twice in one month.”

Raphael looked over his shoulder, meeting his brother’s gaze across the short distance residing between them, as if daring him to keep questioning. If Leo wanted to argue, which he very much didn’t in that moment, then Raph was all too ready to give him one if push came to shove. 

“All right. Go ahead. But _be careful_ ,” Leo urged, stressing the last few words with the utmost seriousness.

Raph didn’t respond to the cautionary words with anything more than a simple nod, bounding off the roof until Leo was the only turtle who remained there. The leader of the four could only hope that his brother would actually listen and that another unexpected meeting would not come to pass.

After all, who knew if the next stranger that entered their lives would actually be friendly?

\------------

“Be careful. Bite me, Leo.”

The words were spoken more to the wind than to his brother and the tersely grumbled comment did nothing to quell the nagging hint of agitation that Leonardo’s warning had caused. It was just like the other turtle to worry, to pester with comments that made him sound more and more like a father trying to offer his wisdom. There was a reason, after all, that Raphael liked to call his brother ‘Splinter Junior’, because even though it was often called for, Leo seemed more and more like their sensei with every passing year. He needed to sound that way, to be that way, even if it was sort of annoying a lot of the time. It was his place as the leader to always be prepared for the worst, to be well meaning with his requests for sense and carefulness. It irritated the hell out of Raph to have Leo almost constantly warning him to watch himself or to keep his temper in check regardless of how necessary it could be. The four of them always looked out for one another and Leo looked out for all of them even more so, keeping up his ‘Splinter Junior’ persona, because they needed it to get by, always had. It was obnoxious most days, but Raph, though he refused to say as much openly, considered it to be something akin to a necessary evil. Their sensei wouldn’t be around forever. He wouldn’t always be there to guide them through troubling times and while Leo would never replace Master Splinter, they’d need that familiar level-headed pillar in their lives whenever he was gone someday. It wasn’t something any of the turtles liked to think of often, but it was still a ‘what if’ scenario that helped remind them just how important Leo’s leadership was, no matter how much it made him seem to be a stick in the mud.

Knowing the importance of Leo’s warnings didn’t make the frustration any less pronounced and it damn sure didn’t stop Raph from silently cussing his brother the whole way to Erin’s apartment. He figured that he probably ought to have told Leo to stuff his ‘be careful’ nonsense up where the sun didn’t shine, because _he knew_ he needed to be careful. He’d been beating the words in to his own head ever since he’d had that very first run in with the human he was on his way to see. The fact that Erin had proven to be no threat, while welcome of course, didn’t negate the fact that he’d brought someone new in to their lives without meaning to. Just because the woman was a friend rather than a foe didn’t make it any less infuriating that he’d been thoughtless enough, focused enough on his own anger over something as trivial as a tiff with Leo, to be seen when his senses ought to have been keen enough for him to have avoided such a thing. Erin seemed like an all right kinda gal, seemed to genuinely want to be a friend to himself and his brothers, but the downside to the friendship she offered was the reminder that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have as much control over his temper as he thought. 

_“And here I’d thought I’d gotten better at keepin’ this shit in check.”_

Raphael was aware that he probably wasn’t focusing on his surroundings nearly as closely as he needed to as he leapt across the gap between two buildings in his silent trek, caught up once again in thoughts of how Leo irritated him and how his anger so often got him in to trouble. It was hard not to think about such things, hard not to focus on them while they were so very prevalent in his mind, but he aspired to cast his internal musings to the wayside for the time being and just pay attention to the present. He let himself stare out ahead at the sea of rooftops before him, plotting out his path to the destination, focusing on the cool rush of the wind as he rushed onward and the roughness of stone ledges beneath his feet. He listened out for voices or footsteps, anything to tip him off to the fact that he wasn’t alone as soon as he was atop a different structure, trying to seek out scents like perfume or cigarette smoke which could linger in the presence of humans even while muddled by the night air. There was something almost meditative about just running and zoning in on his surroundings, as if New York was consuming his consciousness for a time, and the distraction was welcome, quieting the inner chaos that wanted to pester him further until he felt nearly relaxed by the time by the time his feet touched down on the fire escape outside of Erin’s window.

Her bedroom curtain was pulled open, a light coming in from the hall illuminating her bedroom just faintly to let him see that she wasn’t in there. He didn’t bother knocking when she was nowhere to be seen, a quick tug showing him that the window had been left unlocked, easing himself in through the opening before shutting it behind him. He moved forward, heading with a casual gait to the open doorway that would lead out of her bedroom, and it was the sound of a scream coming from the other room that had his pace quickening in an instant. The noise had been one of complete terror, causing Raph to instinctively reach for his sai, brandishing the weapons as he rushed in to the living room, seeing Erin and no one else, casting his gaze around right away for signs of the trouble he’d expected to find her in. 

“Raph?”

Erin glanced his way as soon as she noticed his arrival, the wide, fearful look in her eyes mingling with a visible relief and she headed towards him immediately.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she slipped behind him, her hands gripping on to his shell in a clear sign that she was seeking protection. “Kill it! Please, just kill the damn thing!”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Now more confounded than on edge, Raphael gave the whole of the living room, which he had to admit didn’t look too shabby, another once over to try and find what it was that had gotten her so spooked. He couldn’t say he was opposed to knocking a few skulls when it was called for, but he had to know what he was supposed to be ‘killing’ first. Erin didn’t wait to tell him, her voice taking on a faintly high-pitched and slightly squeaky quality that made her sound more girlish and meek than he would’ve expected from her.

“There’s a spider!”

Try though he might to resist it, the revelation of what had the brunette out of sorts had Raphael’s body growing tense straight away, his head whipping back and forth to try and see where the hell the little eight-legged nightmare was hiding. 

_“Of course it’d be a fuckin’ spider.”_

Raph frowned, tightening his grip on his three pronged weapons as he rallied his calm in an effort to mask his discomfiture before Erin could possibly notice it. He hated bugs with a passion regardless of what kind of insect he might’ve been dealing with and spiders were right near the top of his creepy, crawly shit list. He couldn’t say he blamed the woman for being so freaked out over seeing one, but he’d be damned if he let it slip just how much bugs tended to get his skin crawling too. 

“All this fuss over a spider? Are ya serious? And let go of the shell, wouldja?”

Erin did as he asked, her grip dropping away, but his almost nonchalant remarks had her visage morphing from fearful to irked in no time, lips pursing in displeasure.

“Yes, I’m freaking serious! Do I sound like I’m screeching just for shits and giggles?”

“Sounds to me like you’re blowing things out of proportion. A spider ain’t worth havin’ a heart attack over! Geez, you’d think it was a monster or somethin’.”

“Well pardonnez moi, oh fearless lord of masculinity, but I sort of live here and it’s unsettling as crap knowing that there’s a gross arachnid spawn of the devil in my apartment when it’s **that damn big**!”

The woman pointed a finger up and past him towards one of the far corners of the room, directing Raphael to turn and glimpse upward until he could see just what she was talking about.

“Damn.”

She hadn’t been exaggerating.

“That’s a big fuckin’ spider.”

“Told you so.”

Raphael stared up at the motionless and very large, spindly creature presently sitting near the ceiling, seeming to almost calmly take up its place in the corner as if it was perfectly content to just reside there without any distress towards the two individuals staring at it with differing levels of discomfort, revulsion, and fear. Erin and her green house guest alike found themselves wishing for an extra-large canister of bug spray, not that either individual was inclined to get close enough to douse the bug in deadly fumes, a fact of which Erin wasn’t wholly privy to just yet.

“So…uhm…could you go kill it, please?”

“No.”

She looked at him incredulously, as if surprised that he could be mean enough despite her very apparent fear to turn her down. She’d asked so nicely too. At the very least she’d made sure to say ‘please’, hadn’t she?

“Raph, I’m serious. I am scared out of my wits. Could you please go over there and kill that thing.”

“I ain’t goin’ over there!”

Raphael regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the outburst making him want to smack his own forehead, because he knew, he absolutely knew, that his reaction to her urging had been much more telling than he would have liked. He hoped that maybe she wouldn’t glean anything from the comment, her expression one of confusion at first, but it was clear that the gears in her head had started turning, bafflement shifting in to a very annoying look of grinning curiosity.

“Are you scared or something, Big Red?”

“Fuck no!”

The urge to slap a hand against his brow returned anew when he realized how quickly he’d uttered the denial, growling in near frustration and deciding that he needed to fall back on a diversion tactic right away before the conversation became even more agitating than it already was.

“And I told you it’s annoyin’ when you call me that.”

“But not as annoying as being called out for being just as big an arachnophobe as I am?”

Apparently derailing the spider subject hadn’t worked. It seemed as if Erin was irritatingly perceptive when she wanted to be and that made Raphael’s annoyance stay soundly put.

“I ain’t arachnophobic! I just hate bugs and there’s a difference between bein’ scared of somethin’ and hatin’ it!”

“Okay! I got it! You’re not scared!”

Erin waved her hands at the rising volume of his voice, trying to calm him down by relenting to his claims even though, deep down, she likely didn’t wholly believe him. Whether she did or not was honestly irrelevant so long as she didn’t keep pestering him about it, the flaring of his temper beginning to calm to a more modest case of frustration that showed quite clearly in the way he stared at her. He stayed quiet and waited, just waited, for her to say anything further on the matter, trying to figure out if she was trying to make him think that she was done when she was truthfully waiting to just drop another annoying comment his way. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t Mikey he was dealing with and for that, at least, he supposed he was thankful. 

“If you’re not scared could you at least maybe help me try to kill it? Or should I wait for one of your brothers? They’re still coming too, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they’re comin’. They went back to the lair to pick up some movies, so they’ll be here soon.”

Raph knew there was an easy way to resolve the situation, one that wouldn’t involve waiting for his brothers to show up and thus result in him having to deal with Michelangelo’s obnoxious teasing. He tossed one of his sai lightly, gripping it from the tip rather than the handle; turning as he flung the weapon like one might hurl a throwing knife at a target. A loud thud sounded as the pointed tip in the middle embedded in to the wall, making its mark almost flawlessly, sticking the spider’s body in place even as its legs curled inwards. He looked away from the dead arachnid and towards the woman, who was too busy staring at his fairly impressive shot to notice right away, partly cringing at the way the dead spider looked in its pinned position.

“You’re welcome.”

He gave her a grin, in quite a smug manner, his prideful expression only slightly faltering in the wake of her response to his attack on the creature.

“You just put a hole in my wall.” 

Her tone of voice was not as much accusing or angry as it was shocked.

“I just put a hole in the _spider_.”

“Yeah. Very true. Nice shot, by the way.”

“Damn right it was.”

“One thing, though. How are we gonna get your sai down?”

It was a very good question, one that was notable enough to distract him from the pleasing fact that she’d at least learned to address his weapons by their proper name even if she was still using that damn ‘Big Red’ nickname Raphael had a distinct feeling would probably become a mainstay. 

“Step ladder?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Should be able to knock it down with a broom handle then.”

Erin didn’t have a broom per say given that the floors in her apartment were either wooden or laminate, guessing that a few nudges with the end of her _Swifer_ mop would probably suffice, looking at the spider corpse and the weapon which had caused its demise in temporary, disturbed silence right alongside Raphael.

“So…” she began after a short silence had fallen between them. “…you didn’t mean me, did you?”

“I’m not gonna do it. S’all you, lady.”

“Raph, you’re my hero for killing that evil s.o.b., but I’m not touching that spider cadaver with a ten foot poll, let alone the end of my Swifer mop.”

“I ain’t cleanin’ it up! It’s _your_ apartment!”

“It’s _your_ weapon!” 

She wasn’t being fair and Raph could tell she was aware of that fact, because she seemed to be restraining her ire to an extent. As brief a time as it had been since their sort of friendship had been in existence, he’d noted that she was capable of losing her temper towards him, had very briefly the night that they’d met. He half wished he had some of the control over his anger that she had over hers, especially in that moment since he’d been thinking about as much earlier. The woman was very quickly ticking him off, heated words practically burning on his tongue, and he knew he’d probably have launched in to one of his usual frustrated tirades, one that he’d likely regret later, if luck hadn’t been on both their sides. Their little debate came to a halt when a knock sounded on her door, signaling Raphael’s immediate cue to go hide where whomever was on the other side of the entryway would not be able to spot him, missing Erin’s baffled look when she turned to glance at him only to find him gone. 

“Raph?”

He didn’t answer, leaving the woman to wonder if he’d left altogether, which she supposed she wouldn’t have blamed him for given the way their conversation had been going. Another knock resounded and she called out to let the person on the other side of the door know she was coming, willing to bet that it was probably the pizza delivery guy, grabbing her purse off of the end table near the entry way to root around for the cash she knew she had in her wallet. Sure enough, her hunch was proven correct when she came face to face with a teenage boy in a disheveled uniform, his greeting somewhat half-hearted in what seemed to be a fair indication that he’d either had a busy night, had been stiffed on tips thus far, or had dealt with both since the start of his shift. Erin took a bit of pity on him, handing over a couple of bills and telling him to keep the change as she took the warm boxes of pizza, grinning when the tip he’d received made his good bye sound a great deal more enthusiastic than his greeting had been. Erin nudged the door shut and headed towards the counter, taking in the faintly concealed scent of melted cheese and warm crust, the smaller box of breadsticks atop the stack drawing her immediate attention.  
Steam wafted up as she lifted the lid on the topmost box of pizza, the cheese looking perfectly melted beneath a layer of different kinds of meat and other toppings, hoping that none of the turtles would be opposed to one of the pizzas being a ‘meat lovers’ sort of deal. The only topping she’d be told to avoid had been anchovies, which she’d had no problem with, withholding the urge to grab a slice, so she could try and see if Raphael really had left. Erin began to tug her hair back with the band she’d left settled around her wrist, dropping her hands when she turned and saw Raphael standing next to her, jumping just slightly.

“You’d think you’d be used to the ninja thing by now.”

“I don’t think I ever will be.”

He’d probably sneak up on her a million times in the future and still be able to make her jump when he was so damn good at being quiet despite his impressive size. Erin finished putting her hair up, meeting Raphael’s eyes, and seeking any signs that he was still pissed off. He didn’t say anything to her, didn’t make any further comments for a short while, because he wanted to gauge what her temperament was after their interruption, wondering if their short-lived argument would resume, and finding himself unwilling to be the one to renew it. He left it up to Erin to decide where things would go from there, ready to let the tension return, even though she was less inclined to revisit what had been starting.

“So…pizza?” she asked almost tentatively, testing the waters to see if they were still and calm or boiling hot again.

Raphael grabbed one of the stools she had next to the kitchen counter and tugged it towards him, settling down upon it, giving a nod of his head.

“What’ve you got to drink?”

“Hmmm. Soda, iced tea, I think a few beers…”

Erin moved to the fridge to take a look inside while Raphael helped himself to a slice, plates and napkins be damned. For the time being the subject of the spider and sai stuck through it seemed better left alone. What there was to drink seemed like a much more appealing conversation topic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


	6. Chapter 6: Four Turtles and a Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these two finally acting like chums.

“You didn’t!”

Raphael didn’t offer a single word in response, the smallest indication of a smile settled on his face just as telling as a vocal affirmation would have been, though he still nodded regardless.

“You realize how hot _3AM Reserve_ is, don’t you?”

The turtle gave her another nod.

“And you put it on a slice of Mikey’s pizza anyway?”

His smile grew in to an outright smirk, the stark contrast of white teeth and green skin only seeming to accentuate how absolutely devious the expression appeared. When Erin gaped at him, all wide eyed disbelief and incredulous silence, Raphael almost wanted to laugh since she was showing the exact reaction he’d been aiming for, reaching for his glass of tea to down the remaining liquid with a few noisy sips. He could practically picture the images the woman had racing through her mind, though her imaginings would never have been able to do proper justice to his own memories of a past prank and the all too hilarious results it had provided. There was nothing quite like watching one’s brother dance around in panic after unwittingly consuming hot pepper extract.

“I didn’t realize I was serving tea to _Satan_.”

The remark did sneak a chuckle out of Raph and he held up his empty cup in a silent request for a refill, prompting Erin to head around the counter to the fridge, the deep rumble of the turtle’s snickering making her grin despite her accusations of devilry.

“I hid all the milk we had in the fridge too, by the way. Just to add to the panic.”

“Satan,” Erin reaffirmed with her head half inside the refrigerator, eventually heading in her house guest’s direction with the tea pitcher in hand.

“Ain’t the devil supposed to be red instead of green?”

“You wear red. That’s close enough for me.”

He supposed there were worse things to be called than the devil, the word ‘freak’ being one of his least favorites in particular, so he met her assessment with a shrug, grabbing his third slice of pizza as she sat back down on the stool beside his. One box of pizza was already half gone between Raphael and herself, the food and beverages having provided a good distraction from previously raised tempers. It was a little hard to argue about spider corpse clean up with a mouth full of hot cheese and tomato sauce, but seemingly easier to simply talk rather than yell. The subject of the sai still stuck in the wall had been left alone and ignoring the issue of who would inevitably get it down seemed to have done the trick. A few bites of pizza and a much less uncomfortable subject of discussion, namely growing up in the city, had improved both of their moods. Raph’s posture had become more relaxed as he talked about his younger years, sharing numerous pranks played between his brothers and Erin was more than glad to stop feeling as if she had a ticking time bomb to diffuse. While his temper was a bit daunting and would no doubt take some adjusting to get accustomed to, Raphael genuinely did make for enjoyable company. It was nice to confirm that he really wasn’t all grumpiness and quick ire. If Erin didn’t know any better, she’d almost go as far as to say that they really had gotten past the distrust and uncertainty that he’d felt towards her thus far. 

“What did Master Splinter do when he found out about your little pepper prank?”

“The usual stuff.”

Raph took a bite of his pizza before continuing and Erin tried not to squint as he talked around it, words only slightly garbled by the weight of the food sitting on his tongue. Apparently his training as a ninja hadn’t come with the knowledge that it was sort of gross to talk with a full mouth.

“Told me I shoulda known better, made me get up extra early for trainin’, wouldn’t let me go topside for a week.”

“What? No paddled backside?”

“I was a teenager for one thing. And I dunno if you noticed, but I’ve got a nice shield over my ass, so I didn’t really get that kinda disciplin’ growin’ up like some people might’ve.”

He gave her a pointed look, chewing loudly all the while.

“Oh, I know you don’t mean me. I was a good girl, I’ll have you know. I didn’t have any siblings to pull any pranks on, so my childhood was devoid of spankings.”

“Yeah right. Pull the other one, lady.”

“It’s true. I was a perfect little angel.”

Erin made sure to make her tone of voice sound as sweet as sugar, batting her lashes at the turtle as innocently as she could, and it only made him laugh. He snagged the breadstick she reached out to grab before her fingers could make contact, making a show of biting it in half.

“Perfect little angel, my ass,” he told her, smirking as he pointed her way with the chewed end of the breadstick he’d pilfered. “Speakin’ as the devil, I’m callin’ bullshit.”

“Well, I never stole someone’s breadstick…” 

“It’s delicious, by the way.”

“ **...buuuut…** ”

Erin accentuated the word, rebuffing his interruption and refusing to fully rise to the bait he was offering, even when he stuffed the rest of the breadstick between his teeth.

“I did pour sand down Joey Brown’s pants in elementary school. Before I shoved him off the jungle gym.”

“What’d the kid do? Steal your Barbie or somethin’?”

“Nah. He promised he’d be my boyfriend at lunch, but then I caught him holding hands with Melissa Weaver during recess. Hell hath no fury like a second grader scorned.”

“And that’s what got your old lady to pull out the big guns?”

“Oh yeah. It hurt to sit when she was done, so I never did anything bad again. At least not anything that I thought she’d find out about.”

Raphael looked a bit intrigued, wondering what sort of trouble she may have gotten in to during her teenage years. He’d gotten his thrills growing up by beating the snot out of street thugs and Foot ninja, so the things that normal teenagers did for fun wasn’t something he was familiar with at all. Watching movies and seeing things from a distance as he and his brothers wandered the sewers or rooftops hadn’t allowed for a full picture of what an average life was like. Not being able to experience what human teenagers could, teenagers who were actually able to walk out in plain view without causing a stir, had been a sore spot for him years ago, but he’d laid those feelings to rest for the most part when he’d left his teens behind. Maybe he’d traded them for new demons, new frustrations about the ‘normal’ things he’d never be able to do like most twenty-three year olds could, but they didn’t seem worth dwelling on. At least not very often.

He picked up another breadstick, unintentionally doing so at the same time as Erin, and he snatched it quickly just to antagonize her further. She may not have been Mikey, who would forever be his favorite person to mess with, but it was no less amusing to see her frustration.

“Stop doing that, you big green thief!”

“Gonna push me off a jungle gym if I don’t?”

He shoved the whole breadstick in to his mouth after waving it in front of her for a few seconds, chewing and smirking at the way her frown made her lips thin out.

“If I had one, yeah. I might just have to stick with slugging you.”

“Feel free to try. I’ll even give you a free shot.”

The turtle flexed his arm, turning to face it towards her in an open invitation to give it her best go in a very literal sense.

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m showin’ off my bicep to see if I can make your panties drop.”

Erin would’ve blushed if he’d been a bit more crude and bit less obvious in his sarcasm, rolling her eyes at the very idea that one muscular arm would be enough to get her hot and bothered, even when the notion hadn’t been said seriously. His arm was still positioned towards her, his expression expectant and Erin figured that there was no reason not to give it a try if he was going to be insistent. It’s not as if he was expecting her to impress him and she doubted a weak slug to the arm was going to make a well-trained ninja like him so much as bat an eye, betting he was just waiting to get a laugh out of her feeble attempt at socking him a good one. It wouldn’t stop her from trying, though, and she focused her gaze on his notably thick bicep with as much intent as she could muster, balling her hand up in to a fist. How hard exactly did he expect her to try and hit him? She wasn’t certain if he seriously wanted her to give it all she had or not, so rather than strike him with as much force as she could, Erin hit him with a minuscule degree of strength that didn’t even cause him to flinch. If anything the blow had hurt her more than it had hurt him and she unfurled her fingers to shake them out with a faint grimace.

“That it?”

“Shut up. Your arm is hard as a rock.”

“That was pretty sad.”

“Screw you, Master Oogway.”

Raphael didn’t recognize the reference and thus chose to ignore it, shaking his head as he slipped off of his stool. Erin flexed her fingers a few times, surprised that they hurt at all when she hadn’t punched him as hard as she knew she could, content to blame the discomfort on his stupid, beefy bicep. 

“You’re just gonna hurt yourself punchin’ like that. You had your fingers all wrong.”

He took her hand in both of his and turned it over until her palm was facing upwards.

“Eww. Your fingers are all greasy.”

“And yours are sore, so shut it for a sec. I’m tryin’ to teach you somethin’.”

His cupped his hand around her fingers she had them tucked against her palm, pressing his thumb against hers until the thickest of her digits was curled around the bottom of the others, which they both noted weren’t half as big as any of his. His hands were a fair bit larger than either of hers and when he turned her hand back over, cradling the front of her fist against his palm, fingers closing around the whole of it, Erin could see that his grip encompassed her own significantly. It was a little impressive just how much bigger he was than her despite their equal heights. His shell certainly added a great deal of extra bulk, but he was just bigger than her as a whole; thick with muscle while she was fairly petite. It would’ve been intimidating if she still felt the same fear towards him she had when they’d first met on her roof.

“Gotta remember to have your thumb on the outside. Unless you’re aimin’ to screw your hand up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Not that I even wanna try hitting you again. I’d have better luck punching a wall.”

He grinned, her comments about the stern state of his physique an unintentional bit of flattery on her part, and he released her hand. He figured she’d be better suited to frogging someone with as bony as her knuckles were, deciding he’d make the suggestion some other time, the notion losing weight in his mind when he realized that there was movement coming from her bedroom. The sounds were faint, probably going unnoticed by Erin herself, but Raphael could detect the creaking of the floor boards no matter how light the footsteps moving across them might have been, head already turning towards the doorway before Michelangelo’s face had even appeared.

“They’re heeeere.”

The turtle’s impression of Heather O’Rourke wasn’t quite so creepy when he was grinning so cheerfully, flanked by his other two brothers, who seemed less inclined to Mikey’s slight theatrics. Donatello stepped around Michelangelo to greet Erin with a wave and a smile, his attention quickly drawn by his desire to scope out her home being as he’d not been inside it before, Leo seeming to have no such need to check out her set up when he’d been there once.

“Glad you guys made it. If you’d been any longer Big Red and I might’ve polished off all the pizza.”

“Sorry for the wait. Mikey couldn’t decide on a movie, so he took his time picking out a few from our collection. And by a few I mean…”

The messenger bag Michelangelo had been carrying landed on the nearby arm chair, clattering noisily on the cushions due to all of the movies cases moving around inside.

“…well…all of that.”

Mikey wasn’t at all phased by Leo’s comment, already drawn in the direction of the pizza boxes and the woman who had paid for their delivery, taking in a deep breath to enjoy the tantalizing scent of his personal food of choice. He pushed open the lid to one of the cardboard containers, finding that Erin had remembered to avoid the toppings he’d warned her about, and he bowed his head in a dramatic display of graciousness to the hostess of the evening. 

“Erin provided the grub, bro. Seems fair to provide the lady with a good stash of flicks to choose from. I snagged a little bit of everything, too. We’ve got a little comedy, a little action, a little horror; whatever’s up your alley.”

Variety was the spice of life, so Erin wasn’t at all saddened to hear that the movie choice was hers for the time being, heading back in to the kitchen to grab a few plates and cups with help from Donatello, who moved to assist her without prompting. Though he’d been eating straight from the box Raphael took a plate, setting his next piece of pizza on it before his brothers started grabbing slices for themselves, all of them seeming to ignore the stack of napkins residing next to the pizza boxes. Figuring she’d let the boys get their dinner before she went back for more herself, Erin made her way over to the chair to start rifling through Mikey’s movie stash, telling the turtles to make themselves at home. She liked to consider herself a good hostess, but she preferred her guests to do as they pleased rather have to ask her for what they might like or wait to be waited on. It was something she figured she’d have to help Meg realize as well being as the woman was another new person she’d likely have hanging out at her place in the future.

“If you pick some weep fest of a drama flick, I’m snaggin’ one of those beers you offered. Just a fair warnin’.”

Erin scoffed at the notion, wondering if he was assuming she’d automatically default to something sappy due to her gender, and though she wasn’t entirely one to turn her nose up at heavily emotional flicks, she wasn’t much in the mood for one. Though she did entertain the notion of picking one just to spite him.

“It doesn’t really feel like a drama kinda night, so don’t worry, Raph. I won’t submit you to anything sappy enough to make you crave a Bud.”

“Oooooh there’s beer?” 

Mikey reached for the door handle of the fridge to take a look inside, eyes searching for the alcohol Erin and his brother had mentioned, though a stern clearing of Leonardo’s throat and the sight of Donnie leaning his arm over the fridge door, shaking his head in a slow demurral, quelled the turtle’s hope that he might be able to crack open a beer that night.

“You have one and you’ll be asleep before the movie is half way through,” Donnie reminded him, holding his hand out for one of the cans of soda Michelangelo had grabbed instead.

“Yeah. True. Sucks being a light weight.”

“Don’t feel bad, Mikey. I can’t handle my liquor very well either.”

“Two drink wonder?”

“I wish. More like one and done.”

“Hey! Finally someone with a worse tolerance for booze than me!”

The prospect that he wasn’t the worst light weight in the room had Mikey grinning from what would have been ear to ear, were his ears plainly visible. He cracked open his soda, holding it out to his side to avoid getting sprayed by fizz, and joined Erin by the chair to see if the movies she’d pulled out of the bag thus far would give any indication as to what type of flick they’d be watching.

“One of these days I’m gettin’ you both to drink just so I can see who passes out faster.”

“Only if you promise to hold back my hair when I puke, bro,” Mikey said, rubbing a hand back and forth across his bald cranium. 

“Do you guys drink a lot? I figured the whole being ninjas thing wouldn’t leave a lot of room for casual boozing.”

Leonardo shook his head, already settled in the opposite arm chair with a glass of tea and a plate of pizza balanced on his knee, his seat for the night having obviously been claimed. With his demeanor Erin found it hard to picture him drinking much at all, figuring that any common alcohol consumption between the four of them seemed most likely to be from either Raphael or Michelangelo. How any of them even got their hands on beer in the first place was a bit of a mystery. It wasn’t as if they had ID cards they could use or that they could just stroll in to a convenience store to snag a six pack.

“I know Raph has a few with Casey from time to time and I’ve shared sake with Sensei on a few occasions, but it’s not an every weekend thing for us,” Leo explained, showing that he lacked his red-wearing brother’s tendency to talk with his mouth full. “I don’t think Donnie has ever tried anything. At least as far as I know.”

“Never saw any reason to. I like to keep a clear head as often as I can. There’s always something to work on and I do a better job fixing things without a loss of clarity.”

“So said the turtle who goes without sleeping for days at a time when he’s working on something.”

Donnie shrugged his shoulders, unable to refute that he often forwent sleep if he had his attention thoroughly consumed by a project. When he got to tinkering it was hard to stop a lot of the time and if he was engrossed enough then he could easily forget if he started feeling sleepy, which he’d explained to Erin when he’d let her see his workshop. The prospect of operating on so little sleep, or staying up for more than twenty-four hours willingly, didn’t sound even remotely appealing to the woman. She’d never been distracted by something so engaging that she felt compelled to ignore the enticing siren song of a comfortable bed and a soft pillow at the end of the day.

“Find anything good yet?” 

“Hmmmm…”

Erin didn’t answer Donnie right away, her expression one of visible debate as she stared at the cover for The Expendables before inevitably setting it aside, reaching back in to the messenger bag for another DVD when she felt her fingers touching a much larger than average case, which she could only assume to be a boxed set.

“Oh! _The Mel Brooks Collection!_ ”

She cast an appraising look in Michelangelo’s direction, clearly appreciating his impeccable taste, before she turned the box over in order to see the names for all the individual contained volumes. It had a number of great movies, a few of which she’d never seen before, though she had to frown at the lack of one in particular.

“Man, this thing would be perfect if it included _Spaceballs_.”

“We have it, but I don’t think it’s one of the ones Mikey brought. It’s my favorite Mel Brooks movie.”

“You’re a turtle after my own heart, Donnie. It’s my favorite too.”

Michelangelo rushed over to the counter where the pizza boxes were still situated, grabbing two breadsticks and calling out to his bo-wielding brother, tossing one of the doughy snacks in Donnie’s direction. Raphael seemed to already know what the two were about to do, groaning aloud as he covered his eyes with one hand, already settled on the couch. It wasn’t until Mikey and Donnie had the breadsticks held in both hands, positioned low near their plastrons, that Erin realized what scene they were about to reenact, already giggling by the time Mikey began to imitate Dark Helmet. 

“You have the ring. And I see that your Schwartz is as big as mine,” he said, his impression almost spot on while his expression was only half serious, unable to keep his face looking stern when Donnie was snickering right along with Erin.

The two began to light-heartedly mock duel with the breadsticks for a few moments and Erin left them to it, carrying the pizza boxes, breadsticks, and napkins over to the coffee table in the living room. She packed the movies she’d gone through back in to Mikey’s bag and set it under the table to free up the arm chair it’d occupied, leaving the _Mel Brooks Collection_ out now that she’d been thoroughly inspired to declare it to be a spoof specific movie night. 

“Okay, we’re definitely watching most of the movies in this boxed set, but we’ve gotta start with _Spaceballs_ and lucky for us, I happen to have it too.”

It took only a moment or so to find her copy of the movie amongst the DVDs lined up on one of the shelves of her television stand, putting the disc in to her PS3 after she’d flipped the television on. 

“You brought all those movies and the first one we’re watchin’ isn’t even one of ours,” Raph taunted as Mikey took up residence on the opposite end of the couch.

“She who provides the pizza picks the movie, even if it’s one of hers.”

“Just promise you ain’t gonna start singin’ if the next one she picks is _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_.”

Donatello settled down in the empty chair and Erin flopped down on the middle couch cushion, remote and PS3 controller in hand. When their hostess selected ‘play’ from the DVD menu and then leaned forward to grab herself a slice of pizza, Mikey shot Raph a grin over her back, the expression making it all too evident that he wouldn’t be making any promises to refrain from singing along to any of the musical numbers which might pop up that night.

Perhaps, belated as it was, Michelangelo was finally getting his revenge for the hot pepper incident.

 

\------------

 

_“The jig is up!”_

_“And gone!”_

The living room was almost wholly quiet save for the sounds coming from the TV and the soft snoring at the end of the couch. Pizza boxes sat out on the coffee table, showing more grease stains than food when they had become devoid of pizza some time ago. A few empty soda cans and partly filled glasses added to the modest messiness encompassing the living space, offering a visible sign of a relaxed night in; one which had been well enjoyed. 

“You guys ready to call it a night? It’s nearly 2 in the morning.”

Donnie kept his voice hushed, making an effort not to wake the two forms asleep on the couch. _History of the World: Part I_ had been largely ignored for the past several minutes, the humor of the film having lost some of its appeal after a few hours of watching nothing, but Mel Brooks movies. No one had set any sort of curfew for the evening, but with as late as the hour had gotten it seemed about time to consider the night over, particularly with only three of the five people present still conscious. Master Splinter had become less inclined to wait up for his sons when they’d come out of their teenage years, but he was still prone to worry and it was possible that he was sleeping restlessly if he was even sleeping at all. It didn’t seem wholly probable that their sensei was passed out as peacefully as Mikey happened to be, the turtle snoring unobtrusively at his end of the couch with his head on the armrest and his orange mask ever so slightly askew. He’d fallen asleep as some point during _High Anxiety_ , his unconscious state noted by the lack of his boisterous laughter and the occasional indiscernible mumble as he dreamed about something uncertain. Erin had covered him with a small blanket as she’d switched DVDs, commenting that she hadn’t thought it to be possible that a person could fall asleep watching a Mel Brook film, only to quietly doze a short while later herself. No one had noticed her slumbering until her head had suddenly slipped against Raph’s shoulder, where she presently remained, resting peacefully.

“Yeah. I think it’s about time to head home and follow Mikey’s example,” Leo whispered, casting a warm grin in the direction of his slumbering brother before he pushed himself up and off of the arm chair he’d spent the past few hours sitting in.

He stretched, feeling a little stiff after sitting in one place for so long, and Donatello followed suit, rising from his seat to start cleaning up as quietly as he could, gathering up the cups and cans to carry them to the kitchen. Leo would have been quick to assist him, had bent forward to reach for one of the pizza boxes until a wave of Raph’s hand drew his attention, the other turtle angling his head towards the human using his shoulder as a pillow. 

“Mind giving me a hand?”

Having a woman curled up against his side wasn’t exactly what Raphael would consider a common occurrence and while he wouldn’t say it was necessarily a bad one given that there were more awkward things to experience, he’d been aching to be able to move again without concern for jostling Erin awake. Leo didn’t need any explanations, carefully slipping his hands around Erin’s back and legs to begin lifting her up and away from his brother. The woman didn’t seem to rouse, a soft moan of protest all that came from her as Leo shifted her slight weight until she was settled comfortably against his plastron, carrying her in to the bedroom to put her in bed. Finally free to move again, Raphael rubbed his stiff arm to alleviate the minor discomfort he felt, picking up the PS3 controller and remote to shut off the console and television. 

“Mikey. Hey, Mikey, wake up. We’re going back to the lair.”

“Don’t wanna.”

Donnie sighed and smiled regardless, glancing at Raphael as if debating whether he wanted to ask his sibling to help him wake their slumbering brother up, though he refrained from doing so. Raph would’ve been likely to tip the couch over if Michelangelo kept protesting. 

“Come on. The sooner we get back home, the sooner you’ll be able to go back to sleep.”

Mikey shifted on the couch, grabbing one of the decorative pillows to hug it, chin pillowed on the cushioned softness, eyes still shut.

“But the couch is comfortable. And it smells like a girl. S’nice.”

“But you’re going to have to get up off the couch anyway, Mikey. You drank allllll that soda tonight,” Donnie said with a small smirk, crouching down beside the arm of the couch to speak in slow, urging tones right beside his brother’s head. “You drank so much. Enough that you’ll probably have to use the bathroom soon.”

Michelangelo’s eyes didn’t open, but his brow had begun to furrow with thoughtful discomfort, as if the logic his brother was offering had truly begun to make him aware of his full bladder regardless of the sleepy state of being he was hovering in.

“Baaaaathroom,” Donnie said again, drawing out the word knowingly.

“Crap. I gotta pee.”

With a tired huff, Mikey sat up and tossed the pillow aside, yawning as he practically shambled off to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. Donatello looked pleased with his success, particularly when Raph gave him a nod of approval for how well he’d managed to coerce their sibling in to getting up when he personally would’ve just been content to physically drag Mikey off the couch. Figuring that they’d get home faster if he helped with clean up, Leo’s absence likely a sign that he was either checking out the streets below just to be cautious or ensuring Erin was properly tucked under her sheets, Raphael grabbed the empty boxes and dirtied napkins littering the table, making his way to the kitchen.

“Raph?”

“Yeah?” he answered, trying to make as little noise as possible as he broke down the boxes in order to make them fit in the trash can.

“One of your sai is stuck in the wall.”

Donatello craned his neck forward a bit to get a better look at what the weapon was pinning in place, eyes widening a little once he saw just what the curled up mass actually was.

“Stuck with a spider. Do you want me to…”

Although he didn’t finish the question, the way he jerked his thumb towards the bo staff he’d slipped back across his shell was telling enough that Raph knew what was being offered, and he shook his head in approval, grateful that his brother would offer the help. Donnie wasn’t one to be a pest about Raph’s dislike of bugs and though he wasn’t bothered by insects in particular he did at least seem to understand why the creatures got under his brother’s skin. A quick hit with the end of his bo dislodged the firmly embedded sai from the wall, the weapon and spider alike plummeting towards the floor. The dead bug made a scarcely audible thud and Donnie tossed the sai in Raph’s direction once he’d caught it short of clattering to the ground, the weapon’s owner giving it a quick spin around his fingers as if happy to have it back before tucking it beneath his belt. The spider was wrapped up in a few paper towels and thrown in to the trash by Donnie before Mikey had even emerged from the bathroom, their tired brother none the wiser, and Raphael was glad for it.

Mikey started collecting all of the movies he brought, pushing them back in to his messenger bag, and soon the only lingering sign of the night’s mess involved a few plates and cups in the sink. There were few enough dishes that it wouldn’t have taken long to wash them, but with as tired as everyone had started to feel and with as noisy as dish washing could be when there was a woman asleep in the bedroom, it didn’t seem necessary to clean up that last little mess. Leo stepped out of Erin’s room just as Michelangelo had started pulling his bag over his shoulder, glad to see that his brothers were ready to go.

“I don’t think there’s any point in waking Erin up to tell her that we’re leaving, so I guess we can just head out. The sidewalks are pretty clear, so I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting home without being seen. Let’s get going.”

“Just a sec, Leo.”

Donnie disappeared in to Erin’s bedroom, walking on the balls of his feet to keep his steps as quiet as possible, and his brothers were left waiting for a few moments, uncertain of what Donatello was up to. He returned after a moment, moving past them with a cell phone in his hands, a slight clicking sound coming from the rapid pressing of his thumbs as his eyes remained locked on the display. Once he’d done whatever he’d seemed so intent on, Donnie started to searched around a bit, ignoring the sleepy swaying of Michelangelo, Raphael gripping his sibling’s shoulder to keep him upright, and Leonardo’s confounded stare as he quite clearly tried to understand what Donnie needed to find. He didn’t offer to help, figuring Donnie had whatever he was doing under control unless he said otherwise, the other turtle eventually finding a stack of post-it notes and a pen. He scribbled out a quick note, peeling it from the top of the stack to press the line of adhesive to the cell phone’s screen.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He showed the note to Leo, letting his brother see what he’d been getting at, and after offering a nod of approval, the four turtles started heading in to Erin’s room, stepping noiselessly towards the window.

“I say next movie night should be at our place,” Mikey mumbled tiredly, muffling a yawn behind his hand. “That way I won’t have to get up once I pass out in front of the TV.”

“Erin would, though,” Leo reminded him. “And one of us would have to bring her home.”

Donatello lifted a finger to his mouth, shushing his brothers as quietly as he could, reminding them that they needed to keep their voices down. He cast a glance at Erin, who seemed perfectly still in the middle of her large bed, blankets pulled up to her neck and expression impassive. She didn’t even seem to register the turtle near her bed as he hooked her cellphone back on to the charger cable, setting the device and the note he’d written on her bedside table. 

“Nah, bro. She could just sleep over at our place. S’not like April and Casey haven’t done it before.”

Mikey kept his tones hushed at Donnie’s urging, though the softness of his voice seemed almost pointless when Raphael tugged the window open, the frame scraping and creaking a bit. He tensed, having tried to open it as quietly as he could, and four sets of eyes turned towards the bed, waiting to see if the sound had roused the woman they were trying not to disturb. Erin shifted, turning to roll on to her side with her back facing the turtles, remaining fast asleep and undisturbed, causing the foursome to release a collective sigh of relief. Apparently the woman was a heavy sleeper.

Raph stepped aside to let Leo head out on to the fire escape first, Mikey following right after, clutching his bag against his side to keep it from getting caught between his body and the window frame.

“She could always sleep in your room, Raph. She seemed to like using you as a pillow.”

The grin on Donnie’s face was lighthearted and his tone teasing, but it hardly made Raphael do anything more than thump the back of his brother’s shell as he was climbing through the window. 

“I’d ask if you’re jealous, Donnie, but I keep forgettin’ you’ve got a thing for redheads.”

Donatello turned around on the fire escape, looking at Raph with the barest hint of color on his face, the comment having effectively silenced any further jokes he may have felt inclined to make about the implications of Erin’s unintentional snuggling.

“’Sides, it’s gonna take more than a chick nappin’ on me to get me goin’.”

His brother moved out of the way as Raph started climbing out of the window, grabbing the ladder rungs to start climbing up, pausing in his ascent as Raph turned to grab the bottom of the window to pull it shut.

“But…you’re okay with her now? You’re not still worried about her knowing about us?”

Raphael glanced in to the darkness of the apartment, seeing the still shape hidden beneath the blankets on the bed, and he found that his prior worries were far from his mind.

“Nah.”

He carefully closed the window to block out the wind and noise that had to be filtering in to the sleeping woman’s bedroom. 

“She’s all right.”

\------------

It was the repeated beeping of her cell phone rather than the sunlight peeking through the curtains which woke Erin up early Saturday morning. As a deep sleeper she’d been gifted with the ability to slumber through most loud or disturbing noises, which tended to make living in a city as ever active and noisy as NYC much easier. However, a loud, consistent noise tended to be annoying enough to draw her out of even the deepest of sleeps, particularly if the sound was as grating as an alarm clock or a text message alert coming from her cellphone. 

Erin couldn’t say for certain how long she’d been partly awake and aware of the noise chirping from her bedside table, but she attempted to ignore it for what she assumed to be about ten to fifteen minutes before the realization that she really had to use the bathroom gave her more incentive to get out of bed. The brunette moaned in weary distress, dragging her pillow out from beneath her head to hug it to her chest, shuffling her feet under the blankets to try and get her body moving. 

Damn whatever twist of fate had ordained that beds were always the most comfortable whenever a person had to get out of them.

“I’m going to pee and turn you off and go back to sleep,” she muttered as she groped her hand across the table, latching on to the cellular device.

She sat up, letting her pillow settle in her lap as she ran a hand back through her hair or at least tried to with as tangled as the strands had become during her rest. Her cellphone charger fell out of the port with a tug of her fingers, brow furrowing and eyes blinking as she tried to let her vision adjust to the glowing text on the small screen. When she could finally read, she noted that she wasn’t even looking at the screen itself, the light dimmed by a yellow post-it stuck to the front, and she peeled the paper away to see what it said.

_‘Erin,_

_I programmed my number in to your phone and wrote down yours to give us an easier means of reaching one another. We’re looking forward to the next movie night._

_-Donatello’_

The note brought a small smile to her face, the exchange of phone numbers making her feel warm and accepted. The previous night had been a lot of fun, more fun than she would have thought to have with a group of talking turtles when she’d first encountered them. There were still many things she didn’t know about their lives and likes, just as there were many things they had yet to learn about her, but it had been refreshing to spend time with them without having to prove or reassure anyone that she meant no harm. They genuinely felt like they were her friends now. Even Raphael, who had seemed perfectly content with antagonizing her, which in her estimate was his way of showing affection.

She decided to send Donatello a text to ask him when the next movie night might be, focusing first on checking the messages she’d already received, finding a single one from Jamie.

_‘So how did movie nite go? Any sparks?’_

Erin sent a quick reply, unbothered by the obvious fact that Jamie was clearly hoping to details about a romance that didn’t exist.

_‘No sparks, but I had a great time.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


	7. Chapter 7: Torment of the Textual Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, writing this made me want chicken parmesan.

The air smelled like bacon grease and the lack of smoke alone was enough to tell Donatello that either Mikey or Raph had started cooking breakfast. Or perhaps lunch was the better word to use given that it was getting to be well in to the early afternoon. 

As mutant vigilantes it wasn’t entirely uncommon for Donnie and his brothers to be awake throughout most of the night, doing their part in helping to keep the city streets safe before they turned in to rest, certain to either rise early for training or sleep a bit late to rejuvenate. Leo in particular tended to wake up early every day regardless, the lair quiet as he dedicated time to meditation or perfecting his skills; ever the devoted student. If there was nothing to wake them, Mikey and Raph could sleep for hours, their snores resonating from behind their closed off rooms, with either the sound of a radio being flipped on or the scent of food being cooked tipping everyone off to the fact that one of the two had risen for the day. Donnie, so often prone to staying up throughout the night to fix or study something, had learned to get an idea of who was up when based on what he heard going on beyond his personal work space. The fact that nothing seemed to be on fire was a definite indication that someone other than Leo had gotten up. Their fearless leader was many things, but a good cook had never been one of them.

The way that the food smelled had Donatello’s stomach grumbling, reminding him that he was hungry and hadn’t eaten for several hours, his attention so focused on his work that he hadn’t stepped out of his little enclave to raid the fridge. The thought of setting his work aside was tempting, very tempting, but he resisted the urge when he caught the all too familiar scent of coffee brewing, a small smile working its way across his face. 

It was definitely Mikey in the kitchen. Raph cooked for everyone when he made breakfast, not nearly as inconsiderate as he may have liked to act sometimes, but Mikey was the person who always remembered to refill the coffee pot. 

“Hey bro.”

Sure enough, just as Donatello had predicted, Michelangelo’s head appeared in the archway, an egg and bacon sandwich in his hand, already half eaten.

“Want me to bring you a plate of grub?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mikey. A cup of coffee too once it’s done. Put it on the work bench behind me. I’ll eat once I finish fixing this laptop.”

Mikey disappeared, leaving Donatello to continue along in his work, wondering all the while why anyone would take their computer to a repair technician for something as simple as replacing the fan. Not that he could complain to have work when pc repair earned him a decent bit of money. He’d given up his tech support job once he and his brothers had resumed their crime fighting activities a few years ago, so he’d had to find an alternate means of making a living that didn’t consume quite as much of his time as his prior job. While he’d managed to get their lair outfitted in a manner that provided power, clean water, and other such necessities, there were still needs that he and his family had which required money, such as groceries and medicine. It was definitely difficult to get by when one couldn’t simply get a desk job, what with being a giant turtle and all, but everyone managed. Donnie counted himself lucky that April had been willing to let him advertise PC repair in her antique store. She made for an excellent intermediary in his work and he’d forever be thankful for the ways she helped out.

“Here ya go. Eggs, bacon, and toast with a side of coffee as black as the Shredder’s soul.”

Donnie chuckled and waved a hand in thanks without turning to face his brother, hearing the plastic plate and ceramic mug slide across the table behind him. He felt Mikey’s presence linger, guessing his brother was probably eyeballing some of the clutter on his work bench, but the other turtle left before he could be told not to mess with anything, leaving Donatello alone for just a few minutes. He heard a few doors opening one after the other, along with Raphael’s deep yawning and the tapping of Master Splinter’s cane across the floor, assuming everyone else was about to enjoy their ‘breakfast for lunch’ at the kitchen table. He was intent on joining them in a short while, having little more to do than tighten a few screws and replace the laptop’s casing before he gave the machine a quick test, eyes on the prize so to speak even when Leo joined him.

“Pulled another all-nighter, Don?”

“Yeah. Wanted to get this done so I can get it to April’s shop by this evening. Should be finished in a second.”

“Why don’t you get a little sleep once you’re done? I can wake you up before it’s time to go over to April’s.”

“Patrol tonight?” 

“A short one since it’s a Sunday. Unless you managed to come across any significant information.”

“Actually…”

Donnie set his screw driver aside once he’d finished securing the casing of the computer before him, swiveling in his chair to click his mouse a few times, bringing his computer out of idle status. Leo moved to stand beside his chair, mindful of where he put his hand when he leaned it against the computer desk, not wanting to accidentally knock over any of the various tools settled upon the surface, eyes trained on the glowing screen.

“I came across a missing persons report that I think you’ll want to see,” Donnie explained, pulling up the information he knew his brother would be interested in. “Look familiar?”

Leo stared at the face on the screen for a second or two, knowing the person on the page before him was familiar, eyes widening in recognition.

“He was one of the initiates we came across on Friday. The one that Mikey knocked out.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t find any information about his friend, the boy we interrogated, being missing, but I thought it seemed pretty suspicious. He may have run away from home for all we know, but…it could mean something.”

“Whatever it means can’t be good. Especially with the Purple Dragons being involved.”

“So what do you want to do, Leo? It’s been a while since I’ve checked, but I can try to see if there are any updates about the case or maybe if there have been possible sightings of the kid.”

“You can do that later, Donnie.”

Leo examined the information on the computer screen for a moment longer before he turned to his brother, setting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as he offered a small smile, the expression both warm and well-meaning.

“Eat something and get some sleep, okay? You can check for updates once you’ve gotten some shut eye.”

He could always depend on Leo to worry and though it was in him to want to protest a little when he wanted to check up on things now, Donnie felt that there wasn’t any point to shrugging off his brother’s concern. Now that he’d finished fixing the laptop he’d been tending to and had only a quick test to do to ensure it was working correctly, fatigue had finally started to creep up inside of him, weariness made all the more pronounced by hunger. He could still smell the bacon and eggs on the nearby plate, certain to still be producing steam, and decided he’d do what Leo said. After all, his brother always meant well and when he was right, he was right.

“Let me give April a call first to let her know that we’ll be by tonight.”

Donnie turned his chair and reached out towards the work bench, his hand stopping short of reaching the surface when he realized that the item he was going for was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s my phone?”

\------------

“I’m about two seconds from kicking this thing.”

For the second time in a single week the same damn vending machine had stolen her money and left her without a single drop of soda for her trouble. A completely irrational part of her brain wanted to cite that there may have been some sort of lunchroom conspiracy going on, designed by members of the maintenance staff at work in order to steal her money, but she knew the lack of caffeine in her system was likely the cause of such absurd notions. Having gotten a good night’s sleep wasn’t quite enough to keep a person awake during a tedious work day, especially not a day as slow as Sunday when calls were scarce and usually annoying whenever they did actually come in. Sitting around for several minutes at a time yawning as she watched the clock was a dull extreme while trying to calm a grumpy customer prone to lobbing curses her way was another altogether and enduring them without a soda or coffee in her system felt like torture.

“ _Of course come tomorrow when we’re busy as hell, I’ll be wishing it was a slow Sunday_ ,” Erin thought, sighing as she leaned her head against the vending machine which seemed so intent on trying to spite her.  


She heard the soft shuffle of footsteps over linoleum as someone walked in to the break room, her hopes lifting marginally as a familiar co-worker meandered inside, dragging his thumb across the touchscreen of his fancy cell phone.

“Paaaaatrick,” she whined, her voice about as pitiful as she was sure her expression might have been. 

“Machine ate your dollar again?” 

Patrick was grinning even while he kept his gaze on his phone, accustomed to having to swoop to the rescue whenever the Coke machine opted to become exceptionally greedy. Many a day tended to pass in which somebody asked him to help the diabolical device cooperate and Erin, in all her misfortune, seemed to need his aid the most. 

“Of course it did. It wouldn’t be a complete work week unless this thing was trying to rob me of my spare cash.”

“It does seem to like your money best, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Lucky me.”

Erin stepped aside and waited, watching Patrick hit the front of the machine with the side of his fist as he always did. She heard the opening of a hatch and the thud of a soda bottle dropping in to the exit space, eagerly tugging the beverage free in order to twist off the cap. 

“I swear it doesn’t matter how many times I hit it or try the coin return, it just never works for me.”

“Guess I just have the magic touch then, don’t I?”

The brunette took a much craved swig of her carbonated drink, letting out a tiny, pleased gasp at the feel of something cool and fizzy sliding down her throat, swearing she felt better already.

“How about giving me a little bit of the magic, so I can stop being s.o.l. whenever you have a day off?”

“No can do, milady. My magic touches are reserved for soda machines and my wife.”

He finally looked up from his cell phone, watching Erin take another drink of her Coke as he fed a few quarters to the vending machine, his drink dropping down without any trouble, annoyingly enough.

“You all set now? Gonna go get a quick smoke in and call Zoey.”

“Yeah. I’m good now. Thanks, Patrick.”

“Any time.”

He grabbed his soda and gave Erin a nod, lightly swinging his bottle back and forth as he headed out through the nearby doors to give his wife a ring as he’d said, leaving Erin alone in the break room. During the week the area would’ve typically been heavily occupied at almost all hours with people hitting up the machines or waiting for use of one of the microwaves, chatting about customers as they filled up the chairs at the handful of white tables situated throughout the space. Sometimes Erin was glad to have more people to sit around and eat lunch with, vent to during one of her shorter breaks, but on other occasions she was simply thankful for the quiet. It gave her time to just relax before she went back on the phone and dealt with a sea of chatter until her shift ended. 

She certainly couldn’t say she hated her job. 

There were some notable frustrations that came with being a customer service representative and it wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life for certain, but she knew all things considered that there were worse careers to have. It paid decently, allowed her paid time off and benefits, and she got along very well with a number of her co-workers. As much as she could gripe about it, find it undeniably stressful and downright tedious, it was a suitable enough position to hold until she could decide what she wanted to do long term; figure out what her dream career might be. The bills had to get paid somehow and while the customers she spoke to didn’t always treat her well, the company itself had thus far. It was definitely a plus to boot that she could at least be comfortable on a day as sluggishly paced as Sunday tended to be, happy to have a lesser number of supervisors around to make sure no one was fiddling with their cell phones at their work stations or to complain about dress codes. Being able to come to work in a pair of jeans and a red company t-shirt was something she wished she could enjoy throughout the whole work week. 

_'Yo yo ninja boy. Go go ninja boy. Yo yo ninja boy. Go go ninja boy.'_

The trill of the unfamiliar music drew Erin out of her brief reverie and she set her soda down on a nearby table before she reached in to her back pocket, temporarily puzzled by the Less Than Jake song playing before she remembered who she’d set the ringtone for in specific. Donatello’s name appeared on her screen, reminding her that she had recently gotten his number, and she found that she was already smiling as she pressed the button to answer the call, holding the phone to her ear.

“Donnie?”

“ _Close, but not quite. It’s your **favorite** turtle._ ”

“Donnie?” Erin reiterated with a devious little smirk on her face.

“ _That’s cold, dudette. Really cold_.”

She heard sniffling on the other end of the line, causing her to snicker at the melodramatic mock sobbing she was listening to as she pulled a chair out from under a table and took a seat.

“ _Seriously, though. Is Donnie actually your favorite turtle? Cause I might cry for real if it’s not me_.”

“Aww. No turtle tears, Mikey. I promise I don’t have a favorite. Haven’t known you guys long enough to pick yet.”

“ _Buuuut if you were going to pick a favorite now…_ ”

“It’d probably be whoever gave me chocolate next time I see them.”

“ _Don’t most people make it a point to say you can’t buy affection?_ ”

“Whoever says that greatly underestimates the power of a Milky Way.”

The comment got her a laugh, the sound completely jovial and unabashedly so. If there was one thing she had come to learn about Michelangelo it was that he appreciated good humor and was hardly one to hold back his laughter when he found something amusing. There was a casual way about the blue eyed turtle that made him incredibly easy to talk to, made him feel relatable or about as relatable as a turtle could possibly be. Not knowing him well didn’t seem to be an issue as far as being comfortable chatting with him went and Erin liked that he was so approachable. She was still trying to get a feel for Leo and even Donnie to a lesser extent while Raph, though she found herself quite fond of him, was still a whole other ball game altogether with his chaotic temperament. Thus far, Mikey felt the most like a close friend rather than a just new one and she could only hope she’d feel the same towards his brothers soon, particularly the hot head who had brought all of them in to her life in the first place. 

She couldn’t bring herself to admit it to Michelangelo, but if she really did have to pick a favorite, she couldn’t help the impulse to lean towards Raphael. Maybe it was because she’d met him first. Or perhaps giving him a nickname had already tethered a certain degree of attachment to Raph that she hadn’t fully developed towards his siblings quite yet despite feeling so at ease with Mikey. She supposed it was sort of difficult not to feel a special bond with someone who had almost caused yet also stopped her from becoming a messy pavement smear.

“So what are you doing with Donnie’s phone anyhow?”

“ _You told us Sunday is one of your work days, so I ninja sneaked it from him. Probably have about five minutes before he realizes it too. But now I know what your number is, so I can still keep you entertained even after Donnie takes his phone back._ ”

“I’ve only got ten minutes before I’ve gotta get back on the clock, sadly. But I’ll appreciate all the entertainment I can get until then.”

“ _I can always just text you when you’re on the phones. Might make your day go by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun the Mikey way._ ”

“We’re slow today, so it might be all right. As long as you don’t text me anything too funny. I’m pretty sure cackling in callers’ ears would get me fired.”

“ _But I’ve got some great bad jokes. Like this one: why did the turtle cross the road?_ ”

“No clue.”

“ _To get to the Shell station._ ”

“Oh man, Mikey, that is so bad.”

She knew he could probably hear the smile in her voice despite what she’d said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her grin even though it wasn’t as if Michelangelo could see it.

“ _Awesomely bad, babe. And I’ve got tons more where that came from._ ”

Erin didn’t doubt that he did have a deep well of cheesy jokes that he was just waiting to send her way and she wasn’t entirely sure her sides would be able to handle them if he did share any while she was on the phones, though between calls didn’t sound so bad. As lively as Mikey was, even just over the phone, he seemed to have a certain knack for making idle time pass by with less tedium. 

“ _Besides, if you get fired, you can just take up fighting crime with us. I’ll bet you’d really rock a mask and a pair of knee pads._ ”

“I doubt that’d get my bills paid and your brother only just showed me how to throw a proper punch the other night. I don’t think I’d be much help.”

She’d never seen the turtles in action before, not really, so she couldn’t fully vouch for their skills. There was something to be said for how fit they were and their impressive ability to sneak up on someone without being detected, but she’d only heard stories about how strong they were. Splinter had been teaching them for years and they’d apparently been maintaining a near constant vigilance over the city well before she’d ever moved in to it, so that had to account for some remarkable talent. In the past ninjas had been both historical and fictional, the stuff that books and movies were filled with, rather than something one might encounter in real life, so she supposed there was a tiny part of her that didn’t wholly believe it yet. It didn’t make any sense not to since it had become hard not to imagine truth in seemingly unreal things when she’d befriended four talking turtles and a rat, but perhaps the difficulty she had fully grasping the scale of what the brothers could do was just a reminder that her life had become so very, very different now. Even at that time, with the turtles as friends she wanted to get to know better, it seemed like she’d have to keep taking baby steps in adapting to the changes which her encounter on the rooftop with Raphael had brought.

“ _Okay. Maybe you can just cheer for us from the sidelines. If you wanted, Sensei could probably show you a thing or two like he did for April. Even if you’re not gonna be doing what we do it never hurts to know the basics, ya know?_ ”

“Aw, listen to you being all sweet and concerned, Mikey.”

“ _Yeah. Ain’t I great?_ ”

He really was, particularly for putting thought in to something as simple as making sure she could keep herself safe when he’d hardly even knew her still. She really did appreciate the consideration despite not feeling like the lessons he’d suggested were entirely necessary. 

“ _Hey, Mikey, have you seen…Wait, is that Donnie’s phone?_ ”

The voice was in the background on Michelangelo’s end of the call, but Erin could hear it well enough to discern what was being said.

“ _Uhm…no?_ ”

“ _Who are you talking to?_ ” 

“ _No worries, bro. It’s just Erin._ ” 

“ _Isn’t she at work right now?_ ” 

“ _She…might be?_ ” 

The way Michelangelo’s voice trailed off uncertainly made him sound like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Erin had a feeling the turtle was in trouble, hoping it wouldn’t be too severe. She couldn’t hear what was said next, the sound of friction against the mouth piece making her guess that someone was covering the phone with their hand, a few moments of a muffled exchange passing before the line cleared up again. 

“ _Erin?_ ” 

The voice was different, clearly not Michelangelo, and it was distinctive enough in sound that she knew who it was right away. 

“Hey, Leo. I didn’t just get Mikey in trouble, did I?” 

“ _No. I was about to apologize that he’d called you while you’re at work, but it sounds like you’re not upset._ ” 

“Nah. I’m on a break right now. Honestly, he’s been helping me stay sane the past few minutes, so I don’t mind at all. Don’t holler at him too much, okay? At least not on my account.” 

“ _Maybe for sneaking away with Donnie’s phone then,_ ” Leo agreed, his tone no longer apologetic and hardly sounding angry; polite yet still friendly, as she’d come to expect thus far from the turtles’ leader. “ _Are you busy when you finish work tonight by any chance?_ ” 

“Not really, no. Why?” 

“ _Donnie has to take a repaired computer to April’s place tonight. You remember us telling you about her, right?_ ” 

The turtles, as well as Master Splinter, had mentioned the woman a few times and though Erin knew next to nothing about her in specific, they all seemed to regard her with a visible fondness whenever her name came up. She was apparently close to and very important to them all. 

“Yeah. She’s a friend you guys told me about a time or two.” 

“ _I thought it might be a good idea to introduce you to April and her husband, Casey. We’ve known them both for a long time and since you mentioned the other night that some of your friends were acting a little curious about us, maybe knowing April and Casey might help you have an alibi whenever you’re with us in case anyone starts asking questions._ ” 

“That would actually be a huge help. Jamie alone is going to be a pain to hide things from. Problem is, though…I kinda already told her it was four guys I hung out with the other night. I didn’t tell her anything else, so she doesn’t know that you’re all related or the big no-can-tell about…” 

Erin glanced around to ensure she was properly alone, feeling a little odd being so secretive despite knowing how necessary it was. 

“..you know…turtles and all that. It’s just four guys from work as far as she knows.” 

“ _We’ll figure something out once we’re all at April and Casey’s. In any case, even if we don’t figure out a good cover story tonight, at least you’ll have met the rest of our family._ ” 

The mention of the word ‘family’ gave Erin pause, unleashing an unpleasant twisting of anxiousness inside her as she considered the possibilities of what this next meeting could mean. She'd assumed the couple the turtles had spoken of were quite possible some of the only human friends the brothers had in their lives, at least before they’d met her, so that alone made them incredibly important. The fact that their relationship was so strong that Leo openly described them as being family made Erin feel not unlike she had when she’d been about to meet Master Splinter; like she had someone else to prove something to. It was a possibility that they might not entirely trust her at first and despite telling herself not to worry, Erin knew she’d probably feel a fair deal of apprehension until she was sure that April and Casey, like everyone new she’d met thus far, were aware that she wouldn’t cause any trouble. She had to wonder just how many times she might have to demonstrate how trustworthy she was before her new place in the turtles’ lives would feel truly stable. 

“Okay. Sounds like a plan. I’ll be off at ten tonight, so I’ll call Donnie when I’m leaving the office.” 

“ _I’ll have Donnie text you the address and some directions if you need them. And Erin?_ ” 

“Hm?” 

“ _We appreciate all you’re doing to keep our secret. I know it can’t be easy having to hide things from your friends, but it is really important to us. Thank you._ ” 

She knew Leo meant every word with the utmost sincerity, unable to imagine that he was really one to fake such niceties. Like Raph, his family’s safety was Leo’s entire world and though she’d only seen it in little moments here and there, Erin had the impression that no one took the continued well-being of the turtles’ lives as seriously as Leo did. The fact that he wanted to state his appreciation for something as simple, to her anyway, as discretion made every tiny falsehood she might have to utilize against her older friends in the future worth it. She didn’t much like to lie and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be all that good at it, but sometimes little secrets and the occasional fib here and there were necessary when it was to help someone she cared about. Leonardo and his brothers hadn’t been dear to her as long as Jamie, didn’t feel as close, but that didn’t make them and doing right by them any less important to her. Odd as they were and strange as it was to have to start living what felt akin to a double life, sharing jokes with Michelangelo and being someone Leo could depend on were new fixtures in her little world which she wanted to keep. 

“It’s cool, Leo. No thanks necessary.” 

Erin glanced at the clock on one of the break room walls and let out a little sigh, seeing that she didn’t have too much time left before she had to head back to her desk. 

“I’ve gotta go for now. It’s about time to hop back on the clock. Tell Mikey bye for me and I’ll see you guys later.” 

“ _I will. Bye, Erin._ ” 

“Bye.” 

She ended the call, almost a little sad to be off the phone, wishing she could get paid to chat with Mikey instead of with people who tended to fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. Erin put her phone on vibrate and made a quick stop by the restroom before she returned to her little work station, pulling her headset back on as she settled in her seat, logging back in to the phone system. Silence greeted her, the call center floor mostly quiet, with only a few voices to be heard since there were so few calls coming in. Figuring she had a good while yet before she’d have a customer to converse with, she reclined in her chair and started drumming her short fingernails atop her desk, trying desperately not to let her eyes dart towards the clock on the taskbar of her computer screen. She’d just begun to entertain the notion of making a chain out of paperclips when her cellphone began to vibrate atop her desk, scooping the device up to see that she’d received a text message from an unfamiliar number. Typically, she might have simply deleted it or ignored it altogether, but the subject of the text clued her in as far as who it had come from, admittedly relieved to see that Mikey or rather ‘ _ur fav turtle_ ’ as the subject said, had memorized her number while he’d had Donnie’s phone. Erin opened the text, happy for both the entertainment and for the lack of patrolling supervisors who might have told her to put her phone away, quietly reading what the turtle had sent her. 

_‘Wut do u call sum1 who doesnt fart n public?’_

Erin keyed out a quick response, stating that she didn’t know and after a mere few moments Michelangelo had sent her a reply, one that had her snorting. 

‘A private tutor.’ 

Without a voice in her ear at present or a call likely to come any time soon, the brunette was content as could be in replying to the text with a request for more. She’d have to ignore her phone whenever a customer came ringing, but at least during the long in between she had a friend handy to help distract her from checking the clock. Maybe if she was lucky, Mikey’s awesomely bad jokes would become a Sunday constant. 

\------------ 

“Do you know if she likes chicken parmesan?” 

April supposed it shouldn’t have been surprising that no one responded to her question right away, not when she could hear the droning of the television almost as clearly as the oil simmering in the sauté pan just before her. She had no clue whatsoever which teams were playing, knowing only that it was hockey and nothing short of an explosion could distract Casey from hockey, not that her question had been for her husband anyway. She waited a few more seconds before she looked over her shoulder to see that the boys were all in various states of distraction, Raphael right there with Casey on the couch while Leo watched Donnie working at the kitchen table, doing a last minute check up on the computer he’d brought. They were all focused on something, so she supposed she couldn’t fault them for remaining oblivious to her inquiry even if it was still pretty annoying. 

“Sorry, April. What’d you say?” 

Mikey glanced up from the cutting board he'd been dutifully focusing his attention on, eyes still a bit moist from the onions he'd recently grated, the meat hammer he'd been using to pound chicken breasts becoming still. She knew he probably would've been more happy to relax on the couch with his brother and her husband, but Leo had roped him in to being on kitchen detail as a result of apparently pilfering Donnie's phone earlier that day. April couldn't claim to know what Mikey had done it for or why it was worth even a modest punishment, but she couldn't protest having help in the kitchen when it wasn't an 'order out for food' kind of night. 

“Your friend. I was asking if she likes chicken parmesan.” 

“Dunno. I know she likes pizza. And she can eat. She about packed in as many slices as I did the other night.” 

“I don't think anyone can eat as many slices of pizza as you can, Mikey.” 

“I can't help it if my stomach always wants for the most ambrosial of foods, bro,” Michelangelo remarked with a shrug, bringing the meat hammer down on a chicken breast a few times before he glanced back at Raphael. “Hey, you know her better than I do, Raph. Does Erin like chicken parm?” 

“How the hell should I know?” 

“You're the one she has a special nickname for, _Big Red_. I figured that meant you guys were at least close enough to know each others' favorite eats.” 

“Bite me, Mikey.” 

“Pass. I'd rather have April's awesome cooking.” 

“Call me _Big Red_ again and you might end up eatin' your own fist instead.” 

The woman in question smiled, appreciative of the compliment while utterly amused by the bickering, deciding to just let her inquiry go unanswered. If the new girl wasn't a fan of what was being prepared then not much could be done since they'd already started cooking, onions and garlic nearly finished sautéing while Mikey set to work on the meat, their joint efforts causing the whole apartment to smell amazing. April honestly didn't cook terribly often, she and Casey usually happy to just order something or eat out after they closed up the shop for the day. Cooking a big meal tended to be a once a week endeavor or a special occasion occurrence, the later of the two seeming to be what fit her current idea of the meeting the night entailed. Meeting new people when one ran an antique store was fairly common, but meeting a new person who happened to be aware of her secret extended family was anything, but typical and April wanted to try to make this Erin that the turtles spoke of feel comfortable. 

It was rare that the brothers had new friends to introduce her to given that they went to such great lengths to remain hidden, acting as NYC's best kept secret. They helped people every day, so they'd naturally made acquaintances and friendships over the years now and again, but it had been a long while since the last time they'd encountered someone new. April knew little about the new woman other than little tidbits she'd gleaned from the turtles' mentions of her, but she felt little cause for suspicion or alarm. She trusted the brothers' judgment and she trusted Splinter's even more so, figuring that Erin had to be a person of merit if everyone had given her the okay. The fact that Leonardo had insisted upon Casey and herself meeting the other human was a clear indication that her friends wanted the newly formed connection they'd happened upon to last and grow. They wouldn't have wanted their oldest human friends to meet her otherwise. 

“Aw, come on! You're puttin' him in the penalty box for that! He barely even touched the other guy!” 

Between the stove, the television, her irate husband, and the two squabbling brothers, the apartment was about as loud as it usually was whenever the turtles paid a visit. It was familiar and amusing, if not just a little bit grating on one's nerves whenever the noise caused a migraine to set in. Her head hadn't started throbbing as of yet, so April easily found herself smiling, urging Michelangelo to start breading the chicken in order to distract him from trying to get a rise out of his temperamental sibling. Raphael seemed thankful for the lack of antagonizing commentary and directed his attention to whatever had caused her husband to start cussing out the referee. If it weren't for the fact that April knew how much of a potty mouth Raphael was, she almost might have worried that Erin could end up offended half-way through dinner. Even so, she considered telling her spouse to tone it down once the game was over, knowing fully well that getting Casey Jones to remain calm during a hockey game was about as likely as the Shredder returning from the dead to beg the turtles for forgiveness. 

“All right. Looks like this thing is good to go.” 

April looked over her shoulder to see Donnie closing the laptop with an audible click, taking the carry case Leo offered him to put the computer away for safe keeping. 

“Go ahead and set it next to the bookcase. I'll bring it downstairs in the morning and let the owner know that it's fixed. I can have Casey run the money to you after he's done with a few deliveries tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, April.” 

She shook her head dismissively as she turned back to the stove, feeling that thanks were never necessary in regards to helping with his repair business went. Happy as she was to help out the turtles in any financial way they might need, Donnie had been fairly insistent upon earning funds his own way, preferring to work than accept handouts even if April was and had always been family. She respected his wishes and was glad that acting as the in-between for Donnie and his client base allowed for her to offer assistance in a different way. It'd been nice knowing over the course of the past few years that Splinter and his sons could purchase whatever food, medicine, or the like they might need since they tended to refute monetary assistance. 

Donnie set the laptop where she'd suggested and disappeared in to the bathroom, leaving her to request that Leo start setting the table. The tomato sauce had a while yet to simmer since she'd put all of the ingredients together, heating up another pan of oil to start cooking the chicken while Leo clambering behind them to pluck plates from one of the overhead cabinets. She reached towards one of the drawers to grab a handful of cutlery when Donatello's cellphone started going off where Leo had recently placed it on the counter, the redhead moving to intercept it instead since Donnie had left the room. She answered without glancing at the name on the screen, desperate to silence the weird ' _All Your Base Are Belong To Us_ ' ringtone that Donnie had been using since forever, lifting the phone straight to her ear. 

“Hello?” 

She initially heard what sounded like traffic and wind through the receiver before an unfamiliar and slightly tentative voice spoke. 

“ _Uh, hi. I may have the wrong number. Unless this is Donnie's phone._ ” 

“Is this Erin?” 

“ _Yeah! That'd be me. I'm guessing this is April? Unless Mikey got up to more phone snatching and knows how to do one heckuva lady impersonation._ ” 

April snorted, the sound catching Michelangelo's attention while her wide grin kept him curious. 

“Right on the first count. Donnie's in the bathroom, but if you're calling for directions I'll be glad to give them to you.” 

“ _Actually, I'm good as far as that goes. I got off work a little while ago and I'm on my way. Just wanted to let everyone know I'd be there soonish. Work honestly isn't terribly far from your antique shop._ ” 

“Where are you exactly?” 

“ _I'm on West 11th. I should be crossing 7th here in a few minutes._ ” 

“Okay. Why don't you go ahead and wait once you get to the corner of 11th and Waverly? It's pretty late to be walking alone, so I'll send one of the guys to meet you.” 

“ _That's okay! I should be all right by myself. I usually am._ ” 

“The wait will give Mikey and I a little more time to finish up the chicken parmesan, so it'll be ready when you get here.” 

“ _Chicken parm? Oh god, send whoever is the most willing to run while carrying me piggyback, because I'm hungry and that sounds extra delicious._ ” 

April laughed, glad for the confirmation that her dinner choice had been met with approval. It was only a brief impression of a person, a modest glimpse in to what sort of woman Erin Brooks was, but thus far the phone conversation pegged her as being just the way the turtles had described. She seemed friendly enough and a bit funny, coming off as someone who could very well be the welcome addition to the family that April had hoped for once she'd first learned about the other woman. 

“ _Wait. Since the guys kinda have to avoid being seen, shouldn't I wait in an alley instead of a street corner?_ ” 

“The corner ought to be fine.” 

She moved around the kitchen table after waving a hand towards the oil crackling in the newest pan, letting Mikey start lowering chicken breasts on to the heated surface as she strode in to the living room, smiling as pleasantly as could be. She stopped beside the couch and stayed there until Raphael, unable to ignore her presence, looked away from the television to stare up at her. The way his brows immediately started to furrow spoke volumes of how uneasy her sugary sweet smile made him feel. 

“ _Okay, I'll be waiting. I guess I'll be meeting you soon._ ” 

“I'm looking forward to it! Bye!” 

“ _Bye!_ ” 

She hit the button to end the call, folding her arms behind her back as she continued to stare down at Raphael, who looked suspicious and close to bolting, as if he knew precisely what she was smiling about. 

“Casey, honey, can you go grab some of your clothes from the bedroom?” 

Realization dawned on Raph, who seemed caught somewhere between scowling and wanting to argue. Not that any of the turtles argued with April O'Neil very often or won whenever they did. 

“Oh no.” 

“Oh yes. It's time to put on your big boy pants, Raphael.” 

Erin was in for a very amusing surprise. 


	8. Chapter 8: An Unfortunate Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I maaay have posted a preview for this chapter up on tumblr while I was mid-way through working on it.
> 
> And I may also have posted a random lil headcanon post related to this fic as well.
> 
> I think I'm going to just start posting little snippets and thinky-thought things while I'm whittling chapters down, just for fun.

The air was crisp and welcoming, not so very cold for a September evening in New York City. It was likely suitable jacket weather and perhaps a bit too chilly to walk around with bare arms, at least not without feeling the occasional shiver whenever the wind blew a little harder. 

Erin had spent most of her life in Connecticut, so she had long ago become accustomed to adapting to the temperature drops that came with autumn and winter. The night wasn't half as cold as the worst weather she'd ever been in and wasn't even half as bad as one might have expected for so late in the month. She hadn't felt the need for a jacket when she'd left her apartment for work in the afternoon, the slight shift in to cooler air hardly even bothering her regardless of the occasional passing of cars generating wind on the street corner where she stood. It'd probably be a matter of days before the weather would be where it was meant to and she'd have no choice, but to venture out with a coat, so it felt nice to just enjoy the air while she was able. Though, nice weather regardless, she still would have preferred to be inside with a hot plate of the chicken parmesan she'd been promised.

Her stomach gurgled at the thought of dinner, particularly when she'd had a modest lunch that day, usually consuming vending machine fare or a small sandwich whenever she had to work. The food April had said she was preparing sounded incredibly appetizing regardless of how much tomato sauce she'd consumed with all the pizza she had whenever she'd thus far hung out around the turtles. The hunger made her extra anxious to reach April and Casey's place, giving the anticipation she'd felt about meeting the couple an additional edge. While she was fairly certain things would turn out fine, telling herself that her nervous feelings stemmed from psyching herself out, Erin couldn't stop the urge to sway her weight slowly from one foot to the other in an effort to work her anxiety physically out of her system. Even though it probably wasn't possible to make stress disappear so easily. Maybe that was what distractions were made for and why cellphones were so damn handy.

She exchanged a few texts with Jamie, making plans to hit the gym again in the coming days regardless of how likely it was for them to stop going within two to three weeks at best. Either Jamie would be too tired after work and too busy with Maddie to go one night or Erin would feel too drained from her job, both of them putting it off until they went for about a month without setting foot in the gym. It had been the same song and dance ever since they'd both moved to NYC, awareness of their routine having done little to permanently change it. 

“ _Maybe next year,_ ” she told herself, quite possibly for the twentieth time.

No one had arrived once she'd finished her exchanged with her best friend, leaving the brunette to pass the time by checking a few social media sites and browsing through old photos on her phone. Most of the pictures were of her friends, many of them smiling or getting up to some sort of mischief, snorting at a forgotten image of Adam drunkenly giving Jamie a lap dance while Annette slipped a dollar bill in to the visible band of his boxers. As much as Erin hated clubbing, preferring to have drinks at a friend's place or at the little hole-in-the-wall pub her friends had claimed as their regular hangout, she had to admit that hilarity always ensued whenever they went out. As well as headaches, usually as a result of obnoxiously loud music or the next day hangover. Loathe as she was to experience that sort of pain any time soon, she sent a text to Adam to suggest getting together soon, wondering if he'd met Annette's new girl yet. Chances are that he hadn't, though. Not when work and whatever girl he'd been dating for the past few weeks tended to take up a great deal of his time. She made sure to affectionately call him a jerk in her text.

Hardly expecting her friend to respond that evening, she went back to browsing her photo collection, finding a few awkward selfies she'd taken amongst the pictures of her friends. Selfies she had no intention whatsoever of keeping, cringing before she deleted them all.

“Ya always make that face when yer lookin' at pictures of yourself?”

She recognized the voice immediately, but the fact that it was right beside her made Erin instinctively hide the screen of her phone against her chest to shield it from prying eyes. Eventually, one day in the future, she swore she would manage to adapt enough to Raphael and his damnable ninja stealth skills that he'd no longer be able to sneak up on her. She was sure of it. She was also very, very sure that he was wearing pants.

Pants, a massively bulky coat, and an assortment of garments clearly meant to disguise the fact that the person underneath said mountain of clothing happened to actually be a giant mutant turtle. She gawked at him, from his massive boots to his scarf and beanie, feeling absolutely blindsided by the disguise he sported.

“Woah...”

He was wearing a turtleneck sweater of all things. 

A **turtleneck**!

Raphael looked irked, at least judging by his body language and the narrowing of his eyes, so Erin cleared her throat in a staunch effort to not laugh at her easily irritated friend. She tucked her phone in to her purse, choked the amusement back, and angled her head in the direction they'd have to head to reach _Second Time Around_. Taking the hint without comment, Raph started walking at a fairly brisk pace, clearly eager to get back to April and Casey's apartment. Erin rushed to keep up with him, noting that it took him all of a minute or two before he slowed his gait for her, head tucked slightly down and hands shoved in to the pockets of his coat. 

“So...interesting disguise choice,” she said after a block or two of silence, looking over at him to watch his eyes dart her way briefly.

“Interestin' ain't the word I'd use,” he responded, tone just a bit terse.

“Well, when I say 'interesting', I mean it's sort of...”

She lifted her hands as she reached for the right word, the right way to say what she was thinking, dropping them when she decided that it would be easier to just get straight to her point instead of trying to broach the subject politely.

“You're bundled up really well, but I can still see a whole lot of green under that beanie. I'm just surprised that nobody catches on or notices is all.”

“People notice, but it ain't enough to make 'em care. I walk around like usual, people'd start pointin' and shoutin' about a giant turtle in no time. You hide enough of what you don't want someone to see, only give 'em a glimpse, then it ain't enough to make 'em look twice. People are usually so busy tryin' to get from point A to point B that some dude who looks like he's just wearin' a mask ain't worth thinkin' about for more than a second.”

“Yeah, I guess that does make sense.”

New York was the City That Never Sleeps, active and lively no matter what time of the day or night it happened to be. There was never a lack for people coming and going, rushing to get to some meeting or meal or arrangement. Disinterest for what wasn't a part of a schedule or important plans honestly sounded perfectly natural. A person could run around dressed up in a gorilla mask in order to get hits on _Youtube_ , but that didn't mean that folks would necessarily watch it for more than a few seconds before returning to whatever they had been doing, whatever was important. She supposed that maybe, humorous as it was, the disguise wasn't such an odd choice at all. It was quite clearly bothersome and didn't seem to be something Raphael enjoyed having to use, leaving Erin to wonder for a moment what might have been going on in his head. It sucked that he had to reach for being ignorable just to take a walk down the street, that he couldn't just stride down the sidewalk with the same confidence he seemed to carry when he was on a rooftop or in his home. Having to hide just to exist sounded pretty damn painful.

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Fuck yeah, it is. Especially the damn shoes. I dunno how you humans can stand walkin' around in this shit all day long. If you ask me, this clothes crap is overrated.”

He hooked a gloved finger in to the collar of his shirt, tugging it away from his neck for a moment, as if suffocated by the closeness, obviously nettled by the material against his skin. 

“We kinda can't help it, Big Red,” she began, plucking at the hem of her t-shirt pointedly when he glanced her way. “We can't just walk around naked.”

“Why not? Me and my brothers do.”

“Technically you wear masks and belts and stuff, though. And you've got shells, so naked works for you guys. Humans have too many...wobbly bits. It'd just look awkward.”

“I dunno. I think **you** could pull it off.”

The comment caught Erin slightly off guard, particularly the complimentary nature of it. While it wasn't as if Raphael constantly insulted her, he didn't exactly throw praise her way either nor had he ever given any indication that she was easy on the eyes. She hadn't even considered that the turtles might even have any inclination towards finding humans physically appealing, the thought that any of the brothers might consider her pretty having never crossed her mind. It wasn't like he'd outwardly called her hot, merely suggested that she wouldn't look bad if she walked around in the buff, but it was still surprising enough to make her cheeks feel a bit warm. Thankfully, Raph flashed her his usual 'up to no good' smirk, making it clear enough that he'd just been trying to get her all flustered rather than truly praising her figure or anything. She felt a little silly for thinking his comment had been sincere.

“Don't take much to get you blushin', does it?”

“It's cold out. It's the wind.”

“You makin' up excuses or suggestin' I should keep up the comments to keep you warm?”

“Oh stuff your comments, Big Red.”

“You're the one blushin', so I think that name suits you better.”

“Bite me.”

“Where?”

“Oh god, shut up!”

She knew that she'd only turned redder, even despite knowing that he wasn't being serious, because he started laughing, the sound only getting louder when she reached out to give him a shove. She barely sent him off balance, next to no force behind the push when she was starting to laugh herself, genuinely more amused than embarrassed by his teasing. It honestly felt really, really good that they were able to harmlessly poke fun at one another so easily, their banter feeling even more natural than it had at her apartment the other night. He'd been in her life for less than a month, had clearly not wanted to be in it at all in the first place, but the laughter was a perfect reminder how things had changed since she'd talked to his sensei. How April and Casey would react to her was still very much up in the air, but she felt a bit more hopeful that everything would pan out all right. It had been that way with Splinter in the end and with Raphael comfortable enough in her presence to jokingly flirt instead of constantly scowling at her, there seemed to be enough cause to cling to a hint of optimism. Maybe meeting the other members of the turtles' family was less of a test as she feared and just another way to further solidify that she was a worthwhile part of their lives now.

As she entertained the notion to try and chase away whatever anxiety she still had left, Erin noticed a man weaving unevenly down the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction of Raph and herself. She heard him muttering loudly even at a short distance, catching a smattering of slurred curses and gibberish, figuring the poor guy had gotten himself in to quite the drunken stupor. Raphael made no comment in regards to the fellow, grabbing Erin's arm to slowly lead her in to walking to his right side rather than his left, wordlessly putting himself between her and the swaying alcoholic. He didn't turn his head, didn't fully look at the man, but Erin could see the turtle's eyes periodically darting towards the other human as the pair of them walked by, staying close to her until the unintelligible yammering was well behind them. Once they were a sizable enough distance from the intoxicated passerby, Raph moved away again, leaving them to walk just as they had before albeit with their positions switched. She felt no need to address what had happened, opting not to speak of the man or Raphael's reaction to him, but Erin did let herself smile as she thought the moment over.

She felt she now knew why she felt such a special connection with him. He didn’t have Mikey’s easy-going manner or Donnie’s apparent kindness nor even Leo’s generally respectful, unintrusive presence. Raph seemed to treat the people around him, the people he knew, with a heavy helping of antagonism, but also a great deal of consideration. It wasn’t overt or obvious, seeming largely unspoken, but he had his own way of showing that he looked after others and she realized now that he’d started to extended that same treatment towards her. It hadn’t been there at first, not when he’d still thought her dangerous or that meeting her had been a mistake, but now she could tell things had shifted. Raphael was cranky and crass, often rude and even a little intimidating, but when a person mattered to him he found ways of making it known, just as he had with her a moment ago. She was in his circle now and as odd as it may have been to be drawn in to it, she found that she liked being there. 

Things with April and Casey were going to be just fine, because she felt all the more confidant that she wouldn't just have to vouch for herself. The turtles, even Raphael, would vouch for her too.

“What're you smilin' about?”

“Just thinking about meeting your friends. April sounded pretty nice on the phone. And I pretty much love her already for making chicken parm.”

“You tell her that and she's probably gonna end up feelin' the same way. Shit, I can already picture you two bein' all buddy-buddy.”

“How about her husband? Think I'll get his approval too?”

“Don't see why you wouldn't. Casey's all right. Has a thick skull and a short temper, but he's cool.”

“You two must be best friends then.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Nothing!”

“You tryin' to imply somethin', Brooks?”

“Nope!”

Raph continued to grill Erin about the implication of her words, the brunette chipperly sing-songing out dismissive answers. The conversation remained as such for the remainder of the trek to April and Casey's apartment.

\------------

It was a surprise to absolutely no one that Raphael made a beeline straight in to the bedroom as soon as he'd set foot inside the apartment. He brushed past his brothers and friends without a single word, seeming to care little for introductions or the like, the door slamming shut behind him. Hardly anyone glanced his way when he'd moved by, attention directed from their plates to focus instead on the new arrival.

“Hey, Erin!” 

Mikey climbed out of his chair and headed over to the woman, smile as bright and welcoming as it always was, arms spread out as if he fully intended to give her a hug of greeting. The fact that she'd slapped a hand over her mouth and started shaking kept him from committing to an embrace, arms half way around her before he noted the oddness of her disposition, pulling back to look her over. At such a close proximity, however, it was easy enough to hear the faintest laughter slipping between her fingers. 

“If there's something funny, dudette, you've gotta let me in on it.”

Everyone else quickly became privy to her muffled chuckling, Donnie and Leo exchanging curious looks while April and her husband, partly dragged over by his wife while he continued to eat from his full plate, stepped closer to see what the deal was. Seeming to realize that she just couldn't hide it anymore, Erin allowed her hand to drop, letting out a string of helplessly amused giggles.

“He was wearing a freaking turtleneck!” she practically wheezed, smile only getting bigger when Michelangelo caught on and began to chuckle right along with her. “I've gotta know whose idea that was.”

Casey finished slurping up a mouthful of noodles, rubbing a flick of sauce off of his chin before he waved his hand, looking pleased as punch to take credit for his fashionable joke. Erin held up her own hand, needing very much to give him a high five for his masterful planning, and Casey didn't seem to mind participating in the celebratory gesture. He in fact appeared simply delighted to continue grinning smugly even after Erin and Mikey choked back their laughter when the bedroom door opened. Raphael, comfortably back in his usual lack of clothes, fixed everyone with a mildly sour look, having probably overheard the laughter or gathered that he'd been the subject of discussion during his brief disrobing. Any desire he may have had to comment seemed secondary to his appetite, the turtle grabbing one of two prepared plates sitting on the kitchen counter, turning to let the back of his shell rest against the counter's edge as he dug in to the still-hot meal. 

“Well, since Raph clearly doesn't plan on taking care of introducing us properly...”

It was mostly clear who was who given that there didn't appear to be any other humans in the apartment who hadn't been accounted for, but the necessity of engaging in proper greetings wasn't exactly ignorable. April extended her hand, her smile as welcoming as the warmth of her home, and Erin reached out to take it for a quick shake.

“As you've probably gathered, I'm April and this is my husband, Casey. It's nice to meet you.”

“Erin and the feeling is definitely mutual.”

Casey, midway through twirling noodles around his fork, settled for a nod and a grin, far from unfriendly, but seemingly more inclined to let his wife handle introductory pleasantries and the like. 

“Feel free to set your purse wherever. There's a plate on the counter, so help yourself. What do you want to drink?”

“Just some water would be fine, please.”

“You sure?” Casey interjected, one cheek bulging slightly as he spoke with his mouth half full. “We've got beer and soda.”

“Nah. Water's good.”

April headed to the fridge to see to Erin's request, her spouse simply shrugging at the beverage choice while he moved back to the table to sit down and finish up his dinner. As Erin set aside her bag, she spent a few seconds taking in the apartment, having to admit that it was a damn nice place. Nicer than her own for sure. She'd always been a fan of the way a room looked with a single exposed brick wall and it definitely suited the open concept of the main living space, coming together beautifully with the various antiques decorating the whole room. It looked fairly cozy overall, lived in yet well maintained, and it made Erin feel maybe a little bit guilty for how often she left laundry and other bits of clutter just laying about her own place. Perhaps she'd try tidying up some whenever she went home for the night if she didn't immediately end up falling in to bed.

She accepted the bottle of water held out to her and uttered her thanks, moving to the counter to pick up the plate April had been kind enough to set aside. She turned to join her hostess in sitting at the table when Raphael's fingers, lightning quick in their intent, snagged the single slice of garlic bread sitting near the edge of her plate and he immediately took a bite. 

“Okay, really? Is this gonna be a regular thing with you stealing my bread every time we have a meal around each other?”

“Maybe not every time. Just when the situation calls for it.”

“And how does this one 'call for it'?”

“Ya laughed about the turtleneck.”

“Only because it was _hilarious_.”

“So is your face right now.”

Erin tried to force the pout from her lips, finding it even harder to manage doing so when Raphael made it a point to shove the whole remainder of the bread slice in to his mouth, licking up a mess of crumbs as he chewed. 

“Raph,” both Leo and April chimed in at the same time, their voices mutually disciplinary in tone, but the damage had already been done.

All things considered, a stolen piece of garlic bread was really not a big deal and Erin was positive she could easily figure out another way to get Raph back for his shit-giving at another time. She still had a whole plate full of warm food to enjoy and the smell of it was good enough to nearly make her mouth water, looking loads better than any of the bland garbage she'd get out of the machines at work most days. A seat had already been pulled out for her, one located between April and Donatello, and she dug in to her meal once she was comfortably settled, letting out a moan of approval.

“Me and April make a mean chicken parm, don't we?”

“Mm-hm. Can I hire you guys to cook for me? I'm usually too tired to make something decent to eat after work, so most of the time I order out.”

She had a few recipes in her repertoire, like pot roast and a few casseroles, but living alone and working twelve hours shifts tended to make it seem almost pointless to cook a meal when takeout was a phone call away. She whipped up something good if Jamie brought Theo and Madison over or vice versa, but it usually happened every other week, even if dining in tended to be easier than taking a fussy infant out to a restaurant. 

“Casey and I usually do the same thing unless it's more of a special occasion.”

Erin's lowered her fork from her lips, swallowing hard as she glanced over at April, brows arched up in surprise.

“Meeting me counts as a special occasion?”

“Well, the boys only have new people to introduce once in a blue moon and Leo mentioned on the phone that you might be a little nervous about meeting us, so I thought dinner might help make you feel a little more comfortable.”

She looked from April to Leonardo, sitting across the table, and wondered when he'd even figured out about her worries given that she'd made no mention of them as they'd talked on the phone earlier that day. As cheerful as she'd tried to be about their exchange and agreeing to meeting the turtles' extended family, it hadn't seemed from her perspective that her tone of voice may have given anything away. Yet somehow, it made perfect sense that Leo would have known, a brief reflection of their past interactions enough to remind her that the turtles' leader was incredibly analytical of those around him. He'd noticed how wary she'd been of him when he'd set foot inside her apartment the first time and had made sure to reassure her consistently that he would do her no harm. When she had done nothing more than take a steadying breath outside of Splinter's room, he'd calmly told her to just be herself. Even a subtle change would have been enough to tip him off, make him want to help put her at ease. Leo made sure to notice things that needed to be seen, because it made it easier for him to quietly look after the people in his life. 

Erin turned back to April, realizing that the other woman was so much like the brothers she cared for in that she tried to be good to people. Spending a few minutes in the redhead's presence only told so much of her as an overall person, but nothing about her friendliness felt faked or forced. She had proven to thus far be welcoming and sweet, the openness with which she let Erin in to her home showing that she was perfectly willing to accept a stranger simply due to the fact that the turtles liked her. When she wanted to give someone a chance, she seemed keen to do so genuinely and without resignation, just as the boys had shown signs of doing even before Splinter had fully investigated her personal character. 

Leo had noticed her worries, Raph had acted as a potential shield between herself and an inebriated man, and April had made her a hot meal just to show her how welcome she was in to this new circle of people she'd stumbled in to. Every single person in the room, no matter how incredibly different they were, all had the very common similarity of just being generally good people. It was something she'd already known, but still a realization that continued to springing up with every new hint of what made the odd ragtag family so great, so very worth the secrecy she had to exercise in order to keep them in her life. Erin only had a small handful of close friends and acquaintances in her life, so when she made friendships that held a lot of promise, they never failed to be something of a marvel to her. Especially when the feeling seemed to be almost mutual. 

“Just putting it out there, but I do make a pretty mean Yankee pot roast.”

“Dinner's on you next time then?” Casey asked, the slant of his grin reminding her so much of Raphael that there was no doubt how alike the two probably were.

“Definitely. I'll make sure to buy extra rolls so a certain somebody won't steal mine.”

She heard a loud snort coming from somewhere behind her and very pointedly didn't turn around to acknowledge it, at least not until Casey snagged a half-eaten piece of garlic bread from Leo's plate and chucked it in Raphael's direction. Had he not been in the middle of stabbing a piece of breaded chicken, the turtle probably would have dodged, head snapping up once the slice beaned the top of his cranium.

“You lookin' to get an ass kickin' tonight, Casey?”

“What for? I keep hearin' about you lovin' bread, so I figured I'd help feed yer addiction.”

“And I'll help you in to the dumpster outside if you airmail me anythin' else.”

“Why don'tcha set your plate down and we'll see who ends up goin' dumpster divin'.”

The two both grinned through the ping-pong of threats, evidently not nearly as angry as their words might have implied. The way Leo and Donnie groaned while April pinched the bridge of her nose seemed to indicate that it was a pretty common thing for Casey and Raph to threaten bodily harm to one another, Mikey looking to be the only person who found the apparently typical exchange wholly amusing. Erin liked to give Raph guff in return to whatever he gave her and she felt sure enough that his brothers did the same, but from what she'd witnessed so far Casey looked to be the one who gave Raph the exact same brand of shit that he gave everyone else. In a way, it was almost sort of sweet that temper turtle had an equally temperamental bestie to gripe with, though she didn't dare to say as much when she knew they'd probably just deny having any sort of special bond.

“Fine by me. I've been meanin' to take out the trash tonight.”

“So you're gonna throw yourself in the dumpster?”

“Boys!”

Raph and Casey immediately shut their traps, grins disappearing when they caught the mix of agitation and seriousness on April's face, the pair cowed by the single utterance. Apparently, making April O'Neil mad was one thing that both hotheads dared not do, their playful threats completely silenced in the wake of the woman's severe expression. It was pretty amusing to see two equally muscular tough guys being completely brought down by the ire of a single petite redhead. Erin had no idea how often her new acquaintance had to employ what Jamie would have called her 'mom voice', but the effectiveness of it had to mean that she used it on at least a semi-regular basis. 

“Both of you are on dish detail when you're done eating and if anyone throws food again, you're not getting dessert.”

Neither looked game to argue, the room momentarily growing quiet as everybody turned their focus back to finishing their meals, April looking at ease again with the threat of roughhousing diminished. The silence which followed didn't seem as if it would last for long, the scraping of cutlery against plates a brief prelude to further discussion, Donatello choosing to resume conversation.

“Oh hey, April. Didn't you say you had an alibi you could have Erin use on her other friends?”

That got Erin's attention right away, her eyes full of question as she waited for April to swallow what she'd been chewing in order to elaborate on the subject Donnie had brought up. Naturally, she wouldn't be spending every night in the company of the turtles, but she had hope to see them regularly and given that the vast majority of her free time involved hanging out with Jamie, she'd need excuses as to why she might already have plans. Excuses which wouldn't result in her best friend wanting to play a repeating game of twenty questions.

“Yeah. You told them you made four new friends from work, right?”

“Mm-hm. Four male friends in particular and Jamie especially isn't going to forget that easily.”

“I'm guessing she hears 'male friends' and she starts getting the matchmaking bug?”

“You have no idea.”

Erin knew Jamie meant well with her hopes of being able to pair her best friend up. She brought the subject up at least once a month, always asked if she'd had any luck on the dating front, but it wasn't as if she spent all of her time trying to set up blind dates or suggest potential beaus. Jamie had stated previously that she knew Erin didn't have to be in a relationship to have a happy, fulfilling life and never wanted her to feel as if she was doing something wrong by being single. But Jamie had been there for Erin when her last relationship had fallen apart years ago, had supported her through the confusion and heartache, ever insisting that she deserved better than the pain she'd been put through. The fact that Jamie's present relationship with Theo, regardless of its faults, had been set up by her had only made her best friend hope even more for Erin to find someone special once again. Every little bit of light-hearted yet semi-serious pestering came from a place of complete love.

“I can lie to her, but it'd help if I had really solid ones to use, because I'm not that great at coming up with them on my own. Annette and Adam, they shouldn't be too hard to hide things from, but Jamie's known me since high school, so if I wanna keep her from snooping too hard for details, I'll need a good alibi. Or back up. Or both.”

“Is there anyone aside from Jamie we really need to fool, like your parents?”

“My mom lives back home in Connecticut and she never gets too deep in to who I hang out with. My dad and I haven't had an actual conversation since I was about six, so he's not an issue.”

“Well, if it's just your friends, why don't Casey and I meet them sometime? If you're hanging out with the guys and Jamie happens to call or anything, Raph can easily pass for Casey. They have pretty similar voices.”

“Hey!”

“I do not!”

April ignored the two and continued.

“All we have to do is say that you didn't really hit it off as well with three of your new co-workers, but you and Casey got along really well, especially after he introduced you to his wife. Anytime you're with the guys or have plans with them, you can just tell your friends you're with the two of us.”

It was a pretty simple bit of deception, enough so that Erin honestly felt a little foolish for having not come up with such a plan on her own. It sounded promising, though, and definitely like something that could work if Jamie started getting a bit too curious. Actually meeting April and Casey would only add more validity to the story and probably keep Jamie or any of her other friends from inquiring about potential boyfriends or the like. Overall, it was a pretty good plan in Erin's book and she was relieved that April had come up with it, not to mention thankful that they were willing to go along with things so she could help keep the turtles' secret. With as long as the couple had known the turtles, though, they were probably used to coming up with clever ruses to deter others from discovering their mutant friends.

“That sounds good. I think I can go along with that. I'll make sure to mention you two next time Jamie asks and we'll worry about figuring out a time to hang out together from there. I don't know if you'll ever really need to meet Annette or Adam, but Jamie is cool, so I think you'll like her. I babysit her daughter sometimes too, so I'm sure either you two or the guys'll see Maddie at some point.”

“How old is she?”

“Going on six months. She's a complete carrot top, just like her mom. I keep waiting for her to start getting her mom's freckles.”

“Oh, how cute!”

“I think I've got some pictures of her on my phone.”

Casey and Raphael didn't seem particularly interested in either seeing the photos or paying attention to anyone cooing over them, both finished with their dinner and resigned to start washing dishes. Mikey, however, did get up from his chair in order to see Erin's phone once she pulled it out of her pocket, he and Donnie checking the images out while Leo ate the last of his parmesan, smiling whenever the phone screen was flashed in his direction. 

“Babies have been known to start babbling more coherently at six months and within a year they can even say whole words. It probably wouldn't hurt to get a stuffed turtle to keep at your place, just in case Jamie starts hearing baby babble that seems out of nowhere.”

“Good idea, Donnie. You guys really know how to keep all your bases covered.”

The tech savvy turtle shook his head in a polite dismissal, finding no reason to be complimented for his ability to come up with a proper fail-safe. He'd quite possibly done so on numerous occasions long before Erin and her friends had been a factor for consideration.

“If you're willing to go the extra mile to keep anyone from finding out about us then the least we can all do is make it easier for you. We'll all have you covered one way or the other.”

“Good to know.”

Making certain she didn't slip was surely more out of necessity for their own safety over anything else, but it was regardless a relief to know that the brothers and their friends would assist her with every step of keeping up pretenses and fabricating tiny falsehoods. She'd already decided that deceit for the sake of having the turtles in her life was worthwhile, even if it wouldn't always be simple. Having a little extra help with her efforts and knowledge that April and Casey had done the same for several years gave her more confidence in her ability to do what was needed. Whatever difficulty or even frustration could come with the territory could be handled if and when they came. After having spent so much time stressing about gaining acceptance Erin was just content to relish the existence of her new support system of ninjas and antique shop owners. 

The issue of Jamie and the rest seemed to have been covered well enough to change subjects, everyone finishing up their dinner as April told Erin a bit more about her first meeting with the turtles and Casey, regaling the other woman with tales of rescues and fights with the Foot. Mikey happily supplied his own details as April told her stories, adding his own colorful descriptions to her narration, quieting only when April started divvying up a cheesecake for dessert. Leo, Donnie, and Raph had their own details to share, of course, as excursions from the past were shared. They all detailed very particular ways they'd taken down enemies when April's recounting of their deeds lacked the sufficient details that the turtles felt were necessary, showcasing their pride in the skills they'd honed. It all sounded incredibly far-fetched, with mentions of city gangs and ninja leaders, other mutants and hints of magic, but Erin couldn't find it in her heart to be wholly skeptical when she **had** met four talking turtles and a giant rat. According to the stories, the turtles had saved New York on numerous occasions well before she'd even considered relocating to the sprawling metropolis, the four of them saving lives while she had been attending high school. She was kind of relieved when no one tried to turn the conversation around or ask her about her life, feeling that her prior existence hardly warranted discussing after learning about such things as Raphael's past excursions as the Nightwatcher.

At some point during the course of the conversation, once dessert and the dishes were both finished, everyone migrated from the table to the couches in the area clearly designated as the living room, the large sectional couch proving to be especially comfortable. By that point, Casey had taken to explaining his own prior outings as a masked vigilante, beating down criminals with a hockey stick and surely the same cocky attitude he displayed as he talked about his adventures. The fact that he'd once fought crime and apparently still helped from time to time seemed to make sense given not only his muscular build, but also the fact that he knew the turtles in the first place. Erin didn't know if NYC boasted any other secret crime fighters, but it seemed totally reasonable for heroes of a similar ilk to cross paths and inevitably partner up. Even if becoming allies had occurred after a few scuffles.

“So you two pretty much beat the crap out of each other a few times before you became friends?”

“I dunno about _each other_ or anythin' like that. I knocked this loser on his shell so quick he didn't even know what happened.”

“I think you might've gotten a head injury from that first fight, cause that ain't how I remember it.”

“Oh really?”

“I had you kissin' pavement before you even noticed my skin bein' green.”

“Yer full of it, Raph. That ain't how it happened.”

“Truth hurts, Case.”

“I can show you somethin' that hurts, green bean!”

The two started scuffling, hurling insults at one another in the same fashion as before, grinning through the guff. Erin was snickering by the time Raph had gotten Casey in to a full nelson, his brothers divided as far as who they seemed to be rooting for even though neither hockey enthusiast nor sai-wielder seemed keen to pay their audience any mind.

“How often do they do this?”

“Almost every single time they hang out.”

“Who usually wins?”

“Me!”

“I do!”

“Of course that's the one part of our conversation they actually notice,” April groaned, watching her husband continue to try freeing himself from Raphael's hold.

Erin had a feeling that both men, human and turtle alike, would contest whoever was citing as having more victories even if it turned out that they tended to be equal, the pair having enough ego between the both of them that they'd probably never be able to agree. She was maybe leaning towards rooting for Raph, but somehow cheering for someone other than her host while comfortably lounging on his sofa seemed like some kind of rude faux pas. Keeping her lips sealed and her preferences silent occurred to her as being the more polite thing to do.

Quiet and prepared to keep watching as the boys had it out, Erin shifted to get a bit more comfortable on the couch only to move off of it when the loud wail of multiple sirens caused everyone in the room to make way towards the windows. Seeing New York City's finest go speeding down the street was nothing new for any of them and a pretty common staple of living in the Big Apple, not a day going by that one didn't at least hear sirens in the distance. There would always be a crime or a fire or some other dangerous thing which needed to be dealt with in a city as big as NYC. Unlike most folks, however, who could simply go about their usual business when the cars and lights passed, the turtles were ever drawn to the telltale warning of danger. As the two police vehicles sped down the street, disappearing around the corner with the flashes of red and blue fading away, the four brothers stepped away from the windows with all traces of humor gone from their faces. 

“All right, guys. I think we're going to have to cut the night short.”

“Yeah, Leo's right. Can't ignore the boys in blue when they're practically hollering at us to follow,” Mikey agreed, hands wrapping around the nunchucks tucked beneath his belt without tugging them loose. 

Leonardo looked first to April and Casey, the couple seeming completely understanding of the situation, his sights then settling on Erin with clear apology in his eyes.

“I'm sorry we have to leave so soon. Especially without seeing you home first.”

“It's all right, Leo,” Erin answered, quick to offer reassurances. “I probably ought to get home and get to bed anyway. I've gotta work tomorrow and sleep calls.”

“We'll make sure she gets home all right. You boys just be careful, okay? And Donnie, I'll call you once your payment for the computer comes in.”

“We will and thanks, April.”

The turtles all bid their respective good byes, leaving in a rush via the fire escape, off to stop whatever trouble they were set to find. They'd acted fairly calm about heading in to potential danger, which at first had seemed strange to Erin before she reminded herself of everything she'd learned that night alone, knowing now just how incredibly typical it was for the foursome to act as heroes from the shadows. Everyone who had been present in the apartment that evening save for her had been dealing with the crime fighting aspects of the turtles' lives for years, leaving her feeling almost like a fish out of water with how utterly new it felt to her. Despite not following the turtles or being able to see what they'd be getting in to that night, the notion that they might have a fight ahead of them made her feel pensive and concerned. Hearing about previous struggles and being told that they secretly fought crime was a far cry different from actually seeing them leave to chase danger. Would one of her new friends end up getting hurt? When would she find out if somebody did suffer an injury? How often did they end up bruised or worse doing what they'd spent most of their lives doing by keeping their city safe? 

It seemed wise not to let her thoughts get ahead of themselves or start worrying needlessly when the boys would probably be okay. No matter how many times they might have been injured in the past they were still alive and kicking after well over what sounded like a decade of cleaning up the streets. She couldn't help entertaining horrible possibilities, but what good would it do to psyche herself out? It was early in to this aspect of her life and while having friends with a dangerous profession was completely new territory, she decided that she needed to learn to deal with that knowledge straight away. She'd have to figure out how to accept the worry without choking on it, relieved at least that she did have people in a similar state who she could turn to. If any two people in the world could gather what she was starting to feel, it had to be April and Casey. Unlike her, they'd actually witnessed firsthand what the turtles could do and if they were calm then she saw no reason to let herself freak out too hard. 

“Why don't you pull around to the front of the building, so you can drive Erin home, Casey? We'll wait downstairs for you.”

“All right, babe. Be there in a minute.”

Casey leaned down, pecking April softly on the lips, fingers grazing her cheek before he headed for the door, snagging a set of keys from a hook on the wall on the way out. Ordinarily Erin might have insisted that the couple needn't have gone to any trouble or that she would have been perfectly fine walking home, but it had started getting late and the heavy meal she'd had seemed keen to start wearing her down. Worry about the turtles aside, her body definitely felt the desire for sleep and a ride home would surely be quicker than a seventeen minute walk to the Lower East Side. She doubted that April would have taken no for an answer anyway even if Erin had insisted on going home by herself. 

After snagging her purse from the counter where it had previously been set aside, Erin followed April out in to the quiet hallway. The door was just short of being closed when April seemed to remember something she'd almost forgotten, reaching just inside the apartment to pluck a yellow leather jacket from the nearby coat rack.

“Here. Why don't you take this for now? I'll get it back next time we get together.”

“Thanks, but I'm all right. It's really not that cold out.”

April shook her head, dismissing her refusal, and she held out the jacket until Erin relented, slipping in to the garment. 

“You'll need it. Trust me.”

Rather than question what those words meant, the brunette followed the other woman down the stairs and to the street, the sidewalk empty once they stepped out. There looked to be no sign of Casey anywhere, but it seemed doubtful that it would be a long wait unless they'd had the misfortune of not finding close parking last time they'd driven anywhere. Even though it was late and the street didn't seem to boast much traffic, there was still plenty of noise to be heard, from car horns to the muffled music of someone driving with their stereo turned up too high. For the moment, however, there were no sirens and it made Erin wonder if whatever crime the turtles had gone out to stop had already been taken care of. She felt half tempted to pull out her cell phone and see if there was any information she might find, crossing her arms over her chest to resist the urge to check for news.

“Erin, I forgot to ask, but do you mind giving me your cell number?”

“Oh right! I should've given it to you when I was showing you those pictures earlier.”

Grateful for the reminder, as well as the distraction, Erin whipped out her phone as April did the same, telling the other woman her number and using the text message she immediately sent to program her number in to her list of contacts. Though she wasn't so sure she'd contact him quite as much, she still accepted it when April gave out her husband's number as well, glad to see both their respective names amongst her other friends. 

“If anything ever happens with the guys, can you call me and let me know?”

“Worried?”

“A little. Trying not to be.”

April waved her hand as if to shoo away any sheepishness Erin felt from being concerned, giving her shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“It's all right. I used to tell myself not to worry all the time, whether it was about the boys or Casey, but fighting it is like charging in to a battle you can't win. It's a little easier to deal with once you just accept that you're scared for them, even if they're just doing their usual, run of the mill patrols. It helps to remember that the turtles are tough. Tougher than most people honestly. And they've only gotten stronger and smarter with age.”

There was something in April's eyes that seemed far away for a moment, almost reflective, and she turned to look back at the building which held both her home and her livelihood. It was the look of someone summing up old memories, potentially those which had been hidden amongst all the stories she'd shared that night.

“The city's come a long way since I first met them. No real Foot activity, hardly any Purple Dragons. It's not completely safe, but things are quieter than they've been for a long time and have been for a while. I was there for some of the worst of what the boys and Casey have been through and they all came out okay. Things aren't perfect, but they're better and that definitely makes coping with the worry less of a struggle.”

April could have been trying to reassure Erin more than anything, but the words sounded just as much like a reminder meant for herself. From everything she'd heard that night and before, every little detail the turtles had shared, April O'Neil had been a pillar of love and support since the instant she'd come in to their lives. They held her in high regard, probably higher than anyone else save their sensei, and the woman seemed to know just how much she meant to the brothers, how incredibly important she was in their lives. Keeping her head together, being strong and stable while her family was out being heroes, seemed very much like something she would never and could never give up. It took an incredible person to do what April did and still manage to smile instead of being overcome by doubt or anxiety. 

Whatever reflections of days gone past that she'd found herself caught up in appeared to have faded away again and April faced Erin once more, a gentle smile she'd shown so many times that night settled back upon her lips.

“You know, the boys have me, Master Splinter, and Casey. A few other people too. But I think it helps them a lot to have friends they can just be themselves around, people they don't have to hide from. It's been a long time since any of us have gotten to see Angel or Keno or any of the others, so I think meeting you was a good thing.”

It was a huge relief to hear those words in light of all her past worry and all the concern she felt at present. Erin hardly expected to make much of a difference in the turtles lives, but she was more than happy to offer her friendship and her home to them during their downtime. If those simple things truly meant something to the four brothers as April said then she was glad to give what she could. Befriending the shop owner and her husband was just another added bonus.

“I hope so. After how hard running in to me was on Raph at first, I'd much rather be someone they don't regret meeting.”

“I don't think that'll happen. I was honestly a little bit worried when Leo first mentioned you on the phone, but I'm not anymore. Not after seeing how far you're willing to go to keep the boys a secret.”

If April or Casey had actually been testing her or secretly sizing her up during the course of the night then she'd managed to gain their approval, just as she'd hoped to. She had no clue if there were any other people in the turtles lives outside of their sensei and the couple she'd just become acquainted with who might be wary of her in the future, but for the time everything seemed to have come together just fine.

Erin heard the revving of an engine, almost like an echo of thunder resounding up and down the street, the sound so loud and near that the woman couldn't quite keep her focus on April. She looked about, wanting to see where the vehicle was coming from, catching sight of a motorcycle, black and silver in color, coming out of a nearby alley. It was a massive machine, looking as powerful as it sounded, and she couldn't even have guessed the model when she knew absolutely nothing about bikes, familiar only with the Harley-Davidson brand. The motorcycle turned to head down the street towards where she stood with April, moving slow, and as it neared Erin realized that she recognized the torn jeans and dark gray hoodie the cyclist was wearing, even if the helmet he had on happened to be concealing his face. The fact that the biker pulled to a stop next to the curb where she stood only confirmed Erin's suspicions.

“Oh. Well...now I see why you wanted me to wear a jacket.”

The temperature outside may not have been a bother while standing or walking, but she knew she'd end up freezing if she rode on the back of a motorcycle with no coat on. Provided they didn't wreck and she didn't end up dying horribly.

“So...you know...it really is a nice night for a walk.”

Casey held out a helmet, cocking his head to the side, and despite not being able to see his face very clearly, Erin felt about ninety percent positive that he was probably trying not to laugh at her visible unease. Her own nervous expression stared back at her from the shiny fiberglass surface of the helmet, practically mocking her.

“Don't worry about it. I ain't never been in an accident on this thing and I ain't about to go crashin' any time soon.”

“And he'll make sure to go slow,” April added, shooting her husband a look that practically swore vengeance if he went hot rodding at high speeds. “I'll text you tomorrow to let you know how things went with the guys tonight.”

“Okay. Thanks. Hope to see you again soon.”

Erin inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled hard before she tucked her hair behind her ears and slid the helmet on. Casey slipped up a bit further on the bike to make room for her, revving the engine impatiently as Erin slowly threw her leg over the seat, settling uneasily in to place. 

“Ready?” Casey asked over the roar of the engine, lifting one of his feet from the ground as Erin tentatively reached her hands around his middle.

“Fuck no.”

“Good.”

As the bike sped off down the street, Erin held on tighter and closed her eyes.

She hoped that both she and the turtles made it through the night unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are prepared for some drama and fluff next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr for this story, as well as any future stories I may write, so feel free to check it out or send me any inquiries you might have about the story at [justalilwriterblog](http://justalilwriterblog.tumblr.com/).


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